#grabbed and taken to a den they are very dead. which is the main cause of death I got the mod to prevent. lol. lmao even

[catgirlkirigiri]

I think I’m gonna play Rivulet next now that I am completely disregarding unlock order. Also does anyone know if there’s a setting or mod or anything that would make Hunter’s slag keys harder to lose? Because I keep starting Hunter and immediately losing the keys to accidental throws or getting grabbed. I know key items respawn in the room they disappeared in next cycle but it keeps happening in stupidly dangerous spots that I can’t get back to without dying. I’m bad at video games if you couldn’t tell

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Destiny

Ch 1- Breaking Point

Chapter Summary: Struggling to cope following the birth of their youngest, Katie has been hiding her feelings from Steve until an incident at home causes her to blow. Later, she takes a drive to clear her head and ends up in a familiar place, where she encounters an even more familiar face.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Deals with the subject of Post-Partum Depression so please avoid if this triggers.

Chapter Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So this little Mini-Series is coined from an idea @icanfeelastormbrewing​ sent to me a while ago. It deals with some gritty subjects and is going to be quite angsty in places. I really hope I’ve done this sensitively.

Please let me know what you think- comments and re-blogs muchly appreciated.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Destiny Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chaos. That was the only word to describe the Rogers household at that point in time. Flossie was teething and screaming as a consequence, whilst Katie was trying her best to soothe her, but to no avail. Emmy was supposed to have taken Jamie and Rori out for the day, but she’d been invited out with friend and because Katie didn’t want her to have to spend her spare time helping her out instead of doing something fun, she’d told her not to worry about it and that she’d manage. And for the most part of the morning she had.

But not now.

Katie sighed as the yelling from the Den grew louder and rolled her eyes. She turned to the only one of her kids that was quiet at that time, Harry, who was sat at the kitchen table colouring, his little tongue poking out in concentration.

“You okay for a minute baby?” Katie looked at Harry as she juggled a very grumpy Florence in her arms.

He nodded, not looking up from his activity book. “Yup.” She looked at him, before she headed to the den to see what carnage awaited. When she walked in the door she saw Jamie stood there, the body to Rori’s Barbie doll in one hand, head in the other. Rori was screaming and stamping her feet.

“What the hell is going on?”

“HE BROKE MY ARMY BARBIE!” Rori screamed.

“Not on purpose!” Jamie countered, rolling his eyes.

“YES YOU DID!” Rori continued “You PULLED it and said that…”

“Okay, okay.” Katie sighed, cutting her off. “Jamie, why did you even take it from her in the first place?” “She was hitting me with it.” “Rori is that true?” Rori looked down at the carpet, dragging her toe slightly across the light blue rug. “Maybe.”

“You know, I don’t need this today.” Katie sighed. “Flossie’s mouth hurts, your dad is busy with stuff at work…” “It’s a Saturday.” Rori pouted “He should be with us.” “Yes, and he said he was sorry.” Katie looked at her “But he explained to you this morning he had to help some of his students as they have exams next week. He’ll be home soon and said he would make it up to you both tomorrow.” “But I want him here now.” Rori stamped her foot and Katie felt her temper starting to snap.

“Well, too bad!” She said loudly and Rori looked at her, blinking. “Sorry, but you’ll just have to put up with me, and I know I’m a huge disappointment compared to your father.” she shifted Flossie in her arms who had finally stopped crying. “Now, Jamie, go put the doll on the side in the kitchen.” Jamie walked out of the room as she turned to Rori. “Daddy will probably be able to fix it when he gets home.” “Okay.” She nodded.

“And In future, don’t hit your bother with your toys” Katie looked at her “Because then stuff like this happens.”

Rori opened her mouth to argue but one look from Katie made her shut it again. “Now, why don’t you bring the Scrapbook and do it at the table whilst Harry colours? Let Jamie play his computer in here alone.” “Okay, Momma.” Rori nodded.

Satisfied that splitting them up would at least, for the time being, solve the issue, Katie waited for her to gather the various bits of craft stuff she wanted to use and she pottered into the kitchen. Jamie was stood next to Harry who was enthusiastically pointing at something on the page and talking to him animatedly. She had to give it to her eldest son, when it came to Harry and Flossie, he had the patience of a saint but Rori…well, she pissed him off and to be honest Katie could understand why. She could be a damned nightmare and when she was in one of those moods, the only person that seemed to be able to quell her bad behaviour was Steve. One annoyed look from her Daddy and she would stop dead, it normally took Katie a little longer and as for anyone else, well, they might as well just all go to hell.

Taking a look at Flossie who was now mouthing at her collar bone, she moved to the freezer, grabbed a teething ring and settled her in the little bounce chair, the five month old seemingly calmed for the time being.

“Mom, can I see if Seb can come over?” Jamie asked.

“No chance.” Katie shook her head. “You just broke Rori’s doll, absolutely no way is your friend coming over.” “What?” Jamie blinked.

“Actions have consequences, Jamie.” She shrugged.

“But it was an accident.”

“Yeah, the doll’s head just fell off in your hands did it?” She looked at him.

“No, it was-” “Did you pull it?” “Yes, but-” “So what exactly where you trying to do if not break it?”

Jamie fell silent.

“Exactly,” Katie shrugged, “so no, he’s not coming over. If you behave then maybe tomorrow he can come stay, you can play in the pool.” “Dad said he was taking us to Coney Island tomorrow!” Jamie whined “So Seb can’t come then!” “Oh, how hard it must be to be you.” Katie rolled her eyes sarcastically “Choosing the Fair or your friend.” Jamie glared at her, folding his arms. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.” “My dad always said it was a metric for potential.” Katie shot back, shrugging as she turned to the dishwasher which she had been halfway through unloading before until Flossie had started screaming. “Guess I’ll be a great woman one day.”

With her back to Jamie she smiled gently at the memory of the words her father had once said, and Tony’s reaction. And had she been any deeper in her memories she wouldn’t have heard the little jab that Jamie made.

“God living here sucks.” “Well feel free to pack a bag and leave.” Katie shrugged simply as she turned round to look at her son. “In fact, tell me where you wanna go and I’ll drop you off myself.”

“Maybe I will.” He shot back.

“Like I said, go ahead, I’m not stopping you.”

“Whatever, Mom.” He rolled his eyes. “You can’t kick me out. I’m only ten!” “I’m not kicking you out. You said you wanted to go, I’m simply not stopping you.” Jamie arched an eyebrow, his action making him look even more ridiculously like Steve and his hands dropped to his hips. “Fine, then I’ll just go to Uncle Bucky’s.” “Okay,” Katie nodded, closing the dishwasher. “Go pack a bag, Uncle Buck can deal with your attitude because I don’t want to anymore.” She held Jamie’s gaze, refusing to look away. Eventually her son’s eyes flickered away from her and he turned around with a groan. “Sometimes you’re like the worse mom in the world.”

It shouldn’t have annoyed her as much as it did, because God knows she’d said far worse to Tony when she was younger, and it was a stupid flippant comment, she knew that. But, coupled with everything that had gone on that morning and how much she’d been struggling in general with the kids recently, her patience which had been hanging by a thread, finally snapped. She could quite happily have slapped him right across the face but instead she took a deep breath and shook her head, glaring at him.

“You know what? I’ve really had my fill of you today James, get up to your room.”

“What?” “You heard me!” Katie’s voice rose as she pointed to the door. “Get out of my sight and up those fucking stairs now!”

Jamie blinked at her, she had never sworn at him like that before and his mouth dropped open and he swallowed.

“I’m telling Dad you used bad language.” He stuttered in response and Katie gave a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, are you? Well guess what? I don’t give a shit. You can tell him about that one too!” She blazed “Now I won’t tell you again. Go. To. Your. Room.” “I hate you.” Jamie seethed, and with a final glare at his mom, he wheeled round and stomped from the kitchen, his feet echoing loudly down the hall and up the large staircase. Katie heard his door slam before she leaned on the kitchen counter hanging her head, her eyes filling with tears. And then Flossie started to cry again.

“Momma?” Harry asked tentatively and she wiped her eyes and looked up, smiling.

“Yes, honey?” “I no hate you.” He said softly and she gave him a little smile.

“Me neither.” Rori whispered softly. “Jamie was mean.” Katie shook her head as she crossed the room to pick Flossie up. “He’s just angry because I told him off, don’t worry about it. Now can you two just behave in here for a second whilst I take Flossie into the living room and try calm her down, please?”

“Promise, Momma.” Rori nodded and Katie smiled softly. This was the other side to her daughter, the sweet, gentle, sassy but well behaved one that nine times out of ten the little girl displayed. She took Flossie with her, gently rocking her and soothing her again until her cries became little sniffles. And then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Steve.

***** Steve had just finished with the last small group of Students when Katie’s call came through.

“Hey, Doll, that was good timing.” He smiled gently, “I’ve just this minute finished.” “Hi, I just wanted to check what time you’d be home.” “Oh, erm…” Steve hesitated, “look, about that. Bucky called before and asked if I fancied meeting him and Sam for a drink before I come back for pizza like we promised the kids. Just I’ve not seen them in a few weeks really and-” “Oh. Okay.”

Steve frowned, that wasn’t like her. Normally she didn’t give a shit about stuff like that, in fact half the time she encouraged him to go out and socialise. “Sweetheart, if it’s a problem I can come home straight away?” “Please, I wouldn’t normally ask but-” And then to Steve’s horror she began to cry.

“Baby, what is it?” He grabbed his car keys and his jacket before he picked up his briefcase and strode from his office, locking the door behind him.

“I just…” she took a deep shuddering breath, “the kids have been driving me crazy. Well, okay not all of them, but Flossie is teething and won’t settle, Jamie and Rori have been fighting and Jamie pulled the head off her doll…” “Hang on.” Steve frowned as he walked out of the main door to the Art Faculty and took a right towards the parking lot. “I thought Emmy was taking those two out to give you a chance to keep an eye on Floss.”

“She cancelled earlier, said she’d been invited out. I didn’t want to spoil her plans, I mean like she said, they’re not her kids to babysit-” “Woah, she said that?” Steve reached his car and unlocked it, his frown growing deeper. “She actually said those words?” “Pretty much.” Katie sighed. “But she’s right, Steve. They’re our kids, my issue to look after them. Emmy has been working all week and-” “Katie, you asked her for one favour. One favour because Flossie hasn’t been well. It’s not like you ask her all the time. She shouldn’t have said that.” Steve tossed his jacket into the back of the car, shaking his head in frustration at his eldest. “Well that’s two of us saying things we shouldn’t.” Katie sniffed

“What do you mean?”

“I really lost it at Jamie. I wouldn’t let him invite Seb over because of the doll and then when he threatened to leave I said I’d pack his back and drive him wherever he wanted to go and then he called me the worse mom in the world and-” Steve paused, leaning against the open door of his car taking a deep breath.

“He hates me too, apparently.” Katie continued with a sniff. “And I know he’s lashing out and saying stupid crap because he’s angry but I lost it at him, told him to get up the fucking stairs and, Jesus, Steve I really wanted to hit him.” She started to cry again and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated hearing her like this. She had been up and down since Flossie had been born but had insisted it was merely hormones and tiredness. As he stood there, the guilt washing over him at the fact he’d left her alone today in the first place, he was starting to wish he’d forced her to go to the Doctors months ago instead of accepting her insistence that she would be fine.

“Did you hit him?” He asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“No, of course no!” She bit back, angrily “What do you take me for?”

“I don’t take you for anything, Sweetheart.” He replied not rising to her anger, despite the fact he felt equally as pissed at his son’s attitude. “I’m merely making the point that it doesn’t matter what you felt. The fact is you didn’t.” “But-” “Honey, stop.” He spoke firmly but gently “Look, I’ll be home in about half hour. I’ll deal with him then and I’ll take them all out for a walk with Stark before dinner okay? Give you a little peace.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to ruin your plans or-” “You haven’t. They’re my kids too. We’re a team, we always will be.”

She sniffed again “Okay, see you soon.” “Yeah, hey. I love you.” “Love you too.” He cut the call and got in the car, starting the engine and as soon as his Bluetooth had synched up, he instructed the voice control to call Emmy.

“Hey Pops-” “Don’t hey pops me, I have a bone to pick with you Emily Jayne Rogers.” He spoke sternly as he set the car into reverse. “Did you actually say to your Ma that you weren’t helping out with Jay and Rori today because, and I quote, they’re not yours to babysit?” There was a pause “No, that’s, those weren’t my exact words.” “Well what were?” He asked, pulling the car out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Emmy sighed “I just said that I’d been invited out and seeing as I’d been working all week and they’re not actually my kids, I didn’t want-“

Steve let out a growl “For fucks sake Em!”

“Woah, hang on-” “We asked you to help us out today because Flossie’s been bad with her teeth and your mom needed a bit of time to just concentrate on her.”

There was a pause. “Well why didn’t she just say that before?” “Because she’s your Mom, and she won’t ever ask you to do something like that when you don’t want to, you know this.” Steve replied. “And now I’ve just had her on the phone, crying her eyes out as Jamie’s told her he hates her…” he sighed

“Sorry Dad.” Emmy said quietly. “I didn’t….if I’d have realised it was that big of an issue…” “We know they’re not your kids but if we ask you to help out it’s a last resort.” Steve continued, “I’m well aware you and Queens have your own life to lead too and we don’t want to take it for-granted that you can drop everything to help out, but sometimes, well, especially with everything that happened with Flossie, your Mom just needs a hand ok? She’s done enough for you over the years. She still does.”

“I know.” Emmy sighed, her tone contrite. “I’m really sorry.”

“Okay, well let’s leave it there then.” He said, his tone softer. “Are you home tonight or…” “Yeah, I’ll be home around ten. I’ll apologise to Mom then too“ “Fine, I’ll see you later.”

After another apology from Emmy, Steve cut the call and took a deep, calming breath as he slowed to a stop at a set of lights. He was dreading what he was going to walk into when he got home. He hated being ‘Bad Cop’ but there was no way Jamie was getting away with what he said, regardless of whether or not Katie had snapped at him.

True to his word he arrived home just under thirty minutes after speaking to Katie. He let himself in, giving Stark a quick pat hello before he was accosted by a flurry pink t-shirt, green corduroy dungarees and brown hair.

“Hi, Daddy!” Rori grinned at him as he swept her up into a hug.

“Hey Princess.” He smiled, giving her a kiss to her cheek. He then smiled at Harry who was toddling towards him, and with his other arm he easily picked him up too. “Hey, Buddy.”

With a kid in each arm, he followed Flossie’s soft cries to the living room.

“Hi, Sweetheart.” He said, smiling at Katie who looked at him as she gently rocked their daughter to and fro in the little rocking crib that stood by the sofa. He took a deep breath as he looked at her face. She was exhausted, he could see that. Her eyes were red from crying, she was pale but she still managed a soft smile at him.

“Listen, can you two go play and let me speak to momma for a few minutes? I promise I’ll come through in a little while okay?” Steve looked from Harry to Rori who gave a dramatic pout but one look from Steve stopped her in her tracks and she sighed.

“Ok, Daddy.” “Thank you.” He smiled as he placed them both down and they headed out of the room.

“C’mere.” He sighed to Katie as he dropped down next to her and she leaned straight into his open arms as he pressed a soft kiss to her head. “You wanna tell me properly what happened?” So she did. She explained all about the fight between Jamie and Rori, the broken doll, her argument with Jamie afterwards. She was sobbing by the time she finished, and Steve simply sat still, his arms round her as she pressed her face into his chest.

“So you cursed at him.” Steve said, and Katie nodded “I’m sure he’s heard far worse from TV and Bucky and Sam for that matter.” “That’s not the point.” Katie shook her head, pulling back. “I lost my temper, big time. I shouldn’t have done. I could have quite happily smacked him straight across the face.” She sniffed “What kind of mother feels that?”

“Katie, what he said was downright nasty. I’m not surprised you reacted the way you did.”

“I know he was pushing the boundaries and what he had said was out of order but still, he’s a kid.” Katie swallowed. “I should know better than to argue back with him or scream at him the way I did.” “Honey, you’ve had a really, really stressful year one way or another.” Steve took a deep breath and wiped her tears with his thumb. “I do think though that you should see a doctor, just to talk about things.” Katie shook her head. “I’m just tired Steve.” “Katie, you said this the other month when I suggested it and you’re clearly not just tired.” He replied, a little sternly.

“Steve I don’t need to see anyone.”

“You trying to convince me or yourself?”

“I just need a nap. I’m exhausted.”

“Katie…” “Just leave it, Steve.” She said a little louder. “Please.” Steve took a deep breath.  “Fine, I’ll leave it for tonight. But this conversation is not over.”

She looked at him, her green eyes flashing angrily before she shook her head and stood up “Whatever, I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“Do you want me to order you any dinner?”

She shook her head “Just get what they want, I’ll eat something later.”

He watched her go before he glanced down at Flossie who was sleeping and headed through to the kitchen.

“Daddy we get eeza?” Harry looked up at him from where he was once more sat colouring and Steve smiled, dropping his hand to the back of his head.

“Sure are.” He smiled “What kind d’ya want?”

“Ham and ‘ineapple.” He nodded.

Steve pulled a face “Pineapple does not belong on pizza.” “Does.” Harry insisted giggling. “You silly.”

“Oh am I?” Steve asked, his hands shooting down to his son’s side as he tickled him slightly, Harry giving a squeal as he squirmed away from his touch. Steve chuckled and dropped a kiss to his head as Rori watched him.

“I agree with Harry.” She said. “Ham and pineapple is the best.”

“Well I’ll get you a large one and you can both share it, that okay?” Rori nodded and Steve smiled. “Good, now Princess, I need you to do me a huge favour. I need to go and speak to Jamie. Flossie is sleeping but if you hear her wake up I need you to come get me okay?”

“He broke my doll.” Rori said, frowning, “Look.” She pointed to the side and Steve looked up, taking a deep breath as his eyes fell on the beheaded toy.

“I know, and that’s what I’m going to speak to him about.” He looked back at his daughter. “Now, Rori, I want you to tell me honestly, what were you doing to him to make him break it?” She looked at him, her green eyes round as she blinked and then looked down at the table. “I hit him with it.”

“Why?”

“He was being annoying, he wouldn’t let me watch my programme on TV.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Steve looked at her sternly. “That was naughty.”

“I know. Sorry.” She looked down again before she glanced back up. “Momma said you might be able to fix her.” “I’ll have a look.” He nodded

“If not then Jamie can buy me a new one with his allowance.” Rori shrugged.

“No he can’t.” Steve shook his head. “It serves you right for hitting him with it in the first place.” “But, Daddy!” Rori exclaimed, utterly horrified.

“Aurora,” Steve looked at her, shaking his head, “don’t argue with me.” She pouted and then let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine.” “Now, can you do what I asked whilst I go speak to your brother? And then once I’m done we can go to the park for bit before we order dinner.”

“Yay! Park!” Harry cheered as Rori nodded. Steve ruffled her hair before he headed up the stairs.

He knocked on Jamie’s door and then walked in, closing it behind him. Jamie glanced up at him from where he was sat on his bean bag playing on his Xbox, and one look at Steve’s face made the ten year old avert his eyes.

“Yeah, you might as well look like that.” Steve spoke sternly “James, I’m so disappointed in you. Do you have any idea about how upset your Mom is after you told her you hated her?”

“I didn’t mean it.” Jamie looked down at his hands, his voice quiet.

“I should hope not.” Steve shook his head, sitting down on the edge of Jamie’s bed. “Why did you say it?”

“Because she was shouting at me and she made me angry.”

“You make us angry too sometimes.” Steve looked at him. “How would you feel if we told you we hated you?”

Jamie looked down, swallowing as she shrugged a little. “Sad.”

“Exactly.” Steve watched him. “Now, you know why was your mom was shouting don’t you?” “Because I was fighting with Rori and broke her doll.” Jamie said, before he took a deep breath “But she was hitting me with…”

Steve cut him off, holding his hand up. “Yes, I know she was being a pain in the ass but she’s younger than you and sometimes you just need to rise above it. We’ve told you before, if she’s annoying you, you come find one of us to deal with her.” “But Flossie was crying so I didn’t want to give Mom more to deal with.” Jamie sniffed and Steve saw him reach up to wipe his eyes. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not me you should be apologising to.”

“I know.” Jamie looked down. “Is Mom still upset?” “Yeah, she is.” Steve nodded “But she’s gone for a nap so you can apologise later when we get dinner.”

“Okay.” Jamie nodded “Do you think she will forgive me?” “Of course she will, she’s your Mom. She loves you, we both do, more than anything.” Steve spoked softly, watching as his boy raised his head to look at him. “But that doesn’t mean what you said is okay or that it won’t hurt anymore. And if I ever hear you saying that to your Mom, or anyone of us for that matter I’m gonna be really mad, you got that?” Jamie looked down, his tears falling onto his carpet. “Yes, Dad.”

Steve took a deep breath and then spoke again, this time his voice was a lot gentler. “You know Rori wants me to make you buy her another Doll out of your allowance.”

“I will if I need to.” Jamie shrugged and Steve smiled, reaching out to gently lay his hand on his son’s head.

“Well, I’ve told her if I can’t fix her doll then its tough luck because she shouldn’t have hit you with it” Steve shook his head. Jamie looked up at him and gave a soft smile. “But that doesn’t mean you breaking it was acceptable.” Jamie nodded to show he understood.

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go check on your momma then we can take Stark for a walk. Get some fresh air at the park. But when we get back, you’re having dinner and going straight to bed. Actions…”

“…have consequences, yeah I know.” Jamie let out a sigh.

“Alright, get your stuff and grab Stark’s leash and I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute.” “Okay, Dad.”

Steve stood up and headed out of Jamie’s room, over to the landing. He quietly opened the door and as suspected Katie was curled up on the bed, the TV playing gently in the background, her eyes closed as she slept. He walked over to her, dropped a kiss to her head before he turned off the TV and headed back out of the room, closing the door behind him.

*****

When Katie woke the house was quiet and empty. It wasn’t quite six pm yet, so she assumed Steve had taken the kids out as he had suggested before. But the quiet was as suffocating as the noise had been earlier and she needed to escape. She headed into the hallway, grabbed the keys to her Range Rover before she hesitated, and with a smile took the ones to her Camero instead.

She drove and drove, not paying any attention to where she was going. Just letting the feel of her beloved car sooth her as she turned the steering wheel, the leather smooth in her hand, the noise of the engine reminding her of the day Tony had given it to her, singing along to whatever her shuffle threw up over the speakers.

When she finally focused on her surroundings, she realised she had driven herself to the old compound perimeter fence. She kept going a little further round, finding the parking lot for the Memorial Gardens before she parked and climbed out. She hadn't set foot on the Garden grounds since that day, five years ago almost, when the President has opened them. Once the rubble had been cleared from the grounds, the remaining area of the facility had been refurbished and she had agreed with Pepper to donate it to a Military Charity, although Katie had her suspicions that Ross had gotten his claws into it, even if she couldn't prove it. That area stood behind a huge fence but the rest of the grounds has been converted into public gardens. The lawns were well kept. Shrubs pruned, flower beds well-tended. You would hardly know that a brutal battle had taken place here. But Katie knew, she remembered it like yesterday, and her eyes could pick out that spot from here.

The spot she had watched her brother succumb to the injuries he sustained from wearing the gauntlet. She didn't need the little plaque that told her where it was. She could find it in her sleep. Her eyes strayed to the right, to the path that led to the woods round the side which contained the clearing where she had spent so much time with Steve and Nat, and suddenly she craved for it. She craved the peace and sanctuary that little clearing has given her. She strode over the lawns, ignoring the curious looks she was getting from some people who were out in the gardens and slipped through the gaps in the oak trees and headed along the now overgrown track until she came to the little clearing. Smiling, she saw the initials still carved into the tree. SR KS in a heart, Steve's joke one afternoon as they'd snatched half an hour at lunch between his training drills.

“Seriously?” she snorted as Steve turned to her, grinning as he folded his pocket knife up and slipped it into his utility belt.

“This is what we did in my day, Doll, no graffiti.” He grinned and she’d shook her head, snorting.

“No, just vandalism on a poor, defenceless tree.” She laughed as his arms circled her waist, his chin dropping to her shoulder.

“Not like the tree can feel it.” He replied with a shrug, kissing her neck.

She gave a little snort at that, wondering what exactly Thor’s friend Groot would do if Steve tried to carve their initials into him... The ground was dry thanks to the summer weather so she happily dropped to the grass, her back to the trunk of the aforementioned vandalised tree and pulled her knees to her chest. She took a deep breath, allowing the silence to wash over her, to calm her. She thought about all the times she had spent here and on the compound. The good times had far outweighed the bad, in fact one of the happiest days of her life had been on the lawns out there- her wedding. What a beautiful day that had been some fifteen years ago. A time before The Accords, a time before Thanos, a time before the death of her best friend and her brother had ripped a huge hole in her life. Laying her head back against the rough bark she took a deep breath and her mind flicked to the events of the day and how bad she felt about her outburst at Jamie. No one had told her motherhood would be easy. In fact, quite the opposite. But she had coped. And to be honest she thought that her and Steve had done a pretty good job so far. But Flossie had been hard work from the start. She had struggled to feed, struggled to settle at night, the only one out of her and Steve's four biological kids to ever fall sick for longer than a day at a time and all this coupled with the fact it had taken Katie almost two months to recover from her operation had left her feeling helpless.

She hadn't been able to drive to any of the paediatrician appointments, any of her follow up hospital appointments, hadn't been able to take the kids to school, sports clubs or take Flossie out anywhere to escape the house without help. Steve had stepped up, because he was that kind of man, a good one doing right by his wife and kids, but still the fact she was limited to leaving the house when Steve or someone else was there to lend a hand had been hard on her mentally. This hopeless, dark despair had festered in her chest and she felt useless because she hadn't been able to look after any of her kids alone. And then, as if by magic, the cloud had lifted. She had still been a little down on some days, but on the whole just better. She was given the all clear to exercise so threw herself back into that, losing not only the baby weight from Flossie but taking it a little further and finally ridding herself of the extra 15lb Harry had given her before that. She felt good, she looked good all things considered, and it showed. She felt happier at work, happier at home and far happier in the bedroom, Steve seemingly couldn't keep his hands off her...but she knew that he would have been like that regardless of what she looked like. That was one thing in her life she was confident in- that her soldier loved her no matter what.

All this meant the noise in her head had quietened to a point where she could shut it out completely, she could get on with life, concentrate on her husband and children, control her emotions, well, until her outburst today.

Fuck, maybe Steve was right. Maybe she did need to speak to someone. They had warned her at the hospital that she’d feel some mood swings- all part and parcel of recovery as her body went through the damned menopause, thanks to her hysterectomy, and they’d told her that support was available…but the thought needing it made her feel even worse. After everything she had faced, through her SHIELD and Avenging days, her suffering at the hands of HYDRA...she’d never once had PTSD or depression beyond a few nightmares and panic attacks. The thought that she now might need counselling of some description because she was struggling to cope with her baby and her damned emotions made her feel weak.

“What kind of mother can’t cope with her own children?” She mumbled out loud to herself. “I mean, what on Earth is the point of me even being in their lives if that’s the case?”

She fell silent again, as she wiped a tear from her cheek before she closed her eyes, remaining quiet simply listening to the birds and noises of the stream which ran through the woods to the lake…and then a voice spoke. A voice she hadn't heard for seven years bar in her dreams. A voice she had known all her life. A voice that had comforted her, disciplined her, argued with her, encouraged her...

"I like what they did with the place. A little smaller memorial than I would have liked, but, suppose it’s the thought that counts." Her breathing grew erratic and her eyes flew open, the tears now steadily pouring from them. With a shuddering breath, Katie scrambled to her feet and looked straight into the deep brown eyes of her bother.

Her dead brother.

Her dead brother who was standing in front of her, dressed in one of his usual three piece Tom Fords, that typical Tony Stark smirk on his face as he glanced at her, his smile growing even wider.

“Hey Kiddo.”

 **Orignal Posting**

[hysterialevi]

Eitr | Chapter 4

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

Author’s note: Sorry for the longer wait for this chapter guys. I hit a bit of a writer’s block >.< Hope you like it though!

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

FORANGAL CASTLE

Trudging along behind Algar’s vast strides, Sigurd dragged himself through the castle as he followed the housecarl to the throne room, admittedly struggling to keep up with his brisk pace.

His body was screaming at him to sit down and have a rest somewhere with all the wounds that still littered his flesh, but considering the amount of eyes that were lingering on him at the moment, Sigurd didn’t dare let himself collapse.

All around him, Saxons of every kind stopped dead in their tracks to stare at their peculiar guest as they murmured to each other in nervousness, speculating about what the purpose of his visit could’ve been. Guards and civilians alike followed his every move with a sense of fear sharpening their eyes, and if Sigurd didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that Algar led him down this path on purpose.

There were a dozen different ways to reach the throne room -- many of which were far more discreet -- but given how Sigurd was one breath away from being a walking corpse, it was hardly any surprise that Algar decided to go with the most blatant.

After all, what better chance would he have to humiliate his prisoner? It was a well-known fact that the housecarl shared his ealdorman’s hatred for Danes, and seeing as how Sigurd was practically clothed in nothing except for bandages at the moment, it was the perfect opportunity for Algar to parade him around like a dog on a leash.

Sigurd just hoped he wasn’t being led into a death trap. He could see that this whole ordeal gave the housecarl a malevolent sense of joy, and considering the fact that nearly everyone in the castle hated his kind, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out to be his demise.

“...How does it feel, Norse?” Algar taunted, not even bothering to slow down.

Sigurd gripped his waist, refusing to let the pain hinder him. “Two arrows were fired into my chest and I was thrown into the river -- all after being battered by soldiers. You tell me.”

The housecarl chuckled. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about that.”

Algar gestured at the spectating crowds around them, keeping his voice low so that only Sigurd could hear him.

“I meant, how does it feel, now that all these people have seen you for what you are? A sick, hobbling wretch of a man presented to the world in his God-given form? They’ve heard stories about the Danes, you see. Horrifying tales that speak of the barbaric deeds your people have committed. They fear you. And that fear gives you strength.”

Sigurd pressed a hand against the wall, doing his best to stay upright as the housecarl continued to speak.

“But now... you’re alone. You’ve no clan to protect you, and no shield to hide behind. Your longships lay abandoned on the shores of foreign lands, and these poor souls can finally see you for your true self. A coward.”

The viking ignored Algar’s taunts, not wishing to indulge the man.

“Is that so? And tell me, Saxon, do you goad all your prisoners like this? Or is it just me?”

Algar threw him a glare. “No. When it comes to most Danes in your position, I normally just put a sword through their skull. But for whatever reason, Lord Aegenwulf has taken an interest in you, and so, I shall stay my blade for the moment. But know this -- should you try anything that might endanger the safety of our ealdorman, or the safety of his children, you will wish that we left you in that river to drown.”

Sigurd sped up slightly, walking side-by-side with Algar. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Good. Then follow me, and stay in your place.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE THRONE ROOM

Limping towards the doors of the throne room, Sigurd silently trailed behind Algar whilst the gargantuan man headed into the great hall ahead of him, announcing their arrival to the ealdorman.

The viking could feel a tight grip of anxiety growing in his chest as he approached the entrance, and upon stepping into the ominous atmosphere of the main hall, he suddenly felt as if the stone walls were closing in on him like a cage.

It felt more akin to a dungeon than a place of nobility in here. The very foundation of the castle seemed to hold onto its occupants with a suffocating clutch, and as Algar delved further into the lion’s den, Sigurd spotted the ealdorman himself sitting at the end of the hall.

At the moment, Lord Aegenwulf was currently slouching in his throne as if the burdens of his position physically weighed him down, and the grim expression on his face did little to help.

His eyes reflected the sullen climate of the throne room like a shattered mirror, and just based on the manner in which his gaze snapped onto Algar, the viking assumed that the man was not pleased about this unexpected turn of events.

“Lord Aegenwulf,” Algar called, kneeling respectfully before him. “I bring the Norse you wished to see.”

The ealdorman exchanged a quick glance with one of the men standing at his side -- most-likely another lord, based on his attire -- and beckoned the housecarl with a simple flick of the hand.

“Show him to me.” He commanded.

Algar instantly rose to his feet and stormed over to Sigurd, grabbing the Norse by the back of the neck before hurling him to the floor.

A pained hiss escaped Sigurd’s lips upon hitting the ground, and without even looking down at his body, the man already knew he had reopened one of his wounds.

“Here he is, my lord.” Algar presented.

Glancing upwards from his position, Sigurd observed Aegenwulf with a newfound interest as the ealdorman did the same, both of them silently examining the other.

Aegenwulf was a lean, middle-aged man with a head of grey hair that sat just above his shoulders, and had a long goatee adorning his chin. His expression was crippled with a prominent touch of remorse, and in the darkness that clung onto his piercing glare, Sigurd could detect an intense hatred burning within him like a fire that was just beginning to ignite.

As for the subjects surrounding him, Sigurd also spotted a younger-looking man standing beside Aegenwulf’s throne, quietly watching the scene unfold. The young man had a head of brown hair that was shaved in a way similar to that of Joseph’s, and judging by the striking resemblance between him and the ealdorman, Sigurd assumed he must’ve been his son.

“So...” Aegenwulf began, watching the viking with the eyes of a hawk, “you are the man whom my children rescued. I’ve heard much about you since your... fortuitous arrival. You’ve caused quite a stir in Forangal with your presence.” He paused for a moment. “...What is your name, Norse?”

Sigurd mindlessly kept his gaze on the ealdorman’s son, unable to deny that he was somewhat captivated by the man.

“...Sigurd.”

Aegenwulf fidgeted with the ornament on the throne’s armrest, furrowing his brow in thought.

“Sigurd...” he repeated. “And tell me, Sigurd, of which clan do you hail?”

The Norse fell silent, hesitant to answer the question. He did not know whether or not the ealdorman was aware of his true identity, but considering what Edlynne told him earlier about the death of her brother, he decided it would be best to keep his clan a secret for the time being.

“I... don’t have a clan.” He settled with. Aegenwulf eyed him skeptically.

“A lone Norse wandering a hostile kingdom without a clan? Odd. How long have you been alone?”

“For many years now, my lord. It’s what I’ve always done.”

Aegenwulf traced the side of his temple with a finger, barely shifting his expression. “...I see. And what brought you to Wedenscire? What business have you in these lands?”

“I did not come here by choice. I was ambushed by soldiers and thrown into the river. The water’s current carried me to Agenbury. There, a man found me washed up on the shore, and then your children brought me to this castle.”

The ealdorman processed the viking’s claims and leaned forward in his seat, holding Sigurd in suspense as he pondered his next words.

“Well, Sigurd... regardless of who you are, or whatever your intentions may be, I must admit that I am intrigued by you. You appear to be no different from your pagan brethren, and yet... it is clear to me that there is something unique about you. After all, it is rare for a Norse to offer candor to a Saxon.”

Sigurd perked his head up in curiosity. “Candor? How could you know--”

“--Your story matches the one my son told me.” Aegenwulf explained, gesturing to the young man. “We spoke long before you arrived. Edric was the one who brought you to our healer.”

Sigurd glanced at the young man, wary about where this was going.

“You saved me?”

Edric’s tone remained firm. “At my siblings’ request, yes. But do not mistake my mercy for friendship. I’m not in the habit of saving stray Danes.”

“I see.”

The viking turned back to Aegenwulf, eager to get this over with.

“And you, my lord? Do you share his views? Have you summoned me here for a simple conversation, or do you intend to execute me?”

Aegenwulf leaned back in his throne, his demeanor calm as always.

“Neither. I was going to send you to the headsman’s axe initially, but after much thought and consideration... my son has persuaded me that, perhaps, you would be more useful to me alive than dead.”

Algar shifted a brow at that. “Ealdorman?”

“Hush, Algar,” the older man urged, picking up on his housecarl’s disapproval. “This decision was not easily made, but I believe it is the wisest course of action, given the alternative outcomes.”

Aegenwulf brought his attention back to Sigurd, explaining his plan.

“Listen to me carefully, Sigurd the Lone Wolf. I have brought you here for one reason, and one reason alone. From this day forth, you are not to be regarded as an enemy in this hall, but instead, as an asset. You will be indentured to me.”

The ealdorman pointed a finger at the viking, giving him a single command.

“You will be responsible for protecting my children. You will act as their personal bodyguard, and defend them with your life. Your job will be to eliminate any threats that should endanger them -- including your own people. No matter the cost.”

Sigurd found himself at a loss for words. Was Aegenwulf being serious? Or was this simply a test of some sort? Surely, he would not place this much faith in a stranger, let alone a Norse. After all, he had just lost one of his own children to their people.

“...Me?” He questioned, baffled by the situation. “Why me? Why not choose somebody else?”

“Because you are the one my son saved,” Aegenwulf answered. “A tremendous amount of effort has gone into keeping you afloat these past two days, and there’s also the fact that our healer, Linette, used a decent portion of her resources to nurse you back to health.”

He tilted his head at Sigurd.

“I believe it is only fair that you repay them for their compassion, wouldn’t you agree? You may not be able to pay them back in silver, but I have heard of the tenacity of Norse warriors. It would be a waste to throw your battle prowess away.”

Algar stepped forward, incredulous about the decision. “My lord, I must protest! This man is a Norse; a viking! He is a man of the enemy, and cannot be trusted. It would be foolish to place your children’s lives in the hands of this pagan!”

Aegenwulf gave him a cautionary glare. “Are you implying that I am foolish, housecarl?”

“N-No, of course not, ealdorman. But I do not think it would be wise to entrust this man with the safety of our people! He is--”

“--Well, fortunately, it’s not your decision to make.” Aegenwulf interrupted. “My children claim that this man can be trusted, so let him prove it. He knows the consequences that will arise should he fail, and I am confident that he will do everything he can to ensure that that doesn’t happen...” He glanced at Sigurd. “...Right?”

Sigurd nodded hesitantly, still taken aback by this path he had suddenly been thrown on. “O-Of course, my lord.”

“Good. Then we have nothing more to discuss.”

Aegenwulf looked at his son, instructing the young man to come forth.

“Edric, take Sigurd to the armory. It will be a while before he’s able to recover, but I want his equipment to be prepared in the meantime.”

“...Yes, father.” Edric replied in a cross tone. “As you wish.”

The young man stepped away from his position at the throne and descended the small stairs that led up to it, beckoning Sigurd to follow him with a simple jerk of the head.

“Come along then, Norse. And don’t fall behind.”

Watching Edric storm off, Sigurd slowly stood up from the floor and rose back to his feet, careful not to reopen any other wounds. Meanwhile, Aegenwulf remained seated in his throne, uttering one last phrase before dismissing the viking.

“Remember, Sigurd, we are all watching you. I may have spared your life for today, but if I so much as suspect that you have betrayed my trust, I will bring unto you a retribution so fierce that it will shake you even in death.”

Sigurd nodded assuredly at Aegenwulf. “...I understand, my lord.”

“Very well. Then be off with you. My son awaits you in the armory, and I expect you to take up your duties as soon as you are able. Until then, may you walk with God.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

THE ARMORY

Following Edric down the lengthy corridor, Sigurd found himself feeling much more relieved now that he was out of Algar’s reach and away from the throne room’s premises, leaving him with a brief sense of peace.

The ealdorman’s son didn’t appear to be any more thrilled than the housecarl to have a new Norse roaming around their halls, but at the very least, he didn’t show any intentions of driving a blade through his heart either.

Though, Sigurd had to admit, he was curious about the young man’s true motivations. It was quite obvious that he held no love for the Danes or their people, and even though he claimed to have saved Sigurd at the behest of his siblings, the viking still had to wonder if that was truly the case.

After all, was it really enough to convince someone to risk their safety purely based on their family’s wishes alone? Regardless of how much Edric may have loved Joseph and Edlynne, the truth of the matter was -- they were at war.

There was no love to be found between Saxons and Danes -- especially in this shire -- and despite the honorable demeanor Sigurd may have carried, the young man really had no reason to trust him. He was still a complete stranger in the man’s eyes, and so the fact that Edric went out of his way to convince his father to spare Sigurd only made the viking more confused.

“So...” Edric suddenly said, pulling the other man from his thoughts, “you’re Sigurd. You were in quite a state the last time I saw you. Part of me was convinced you wouldn’t wake up.”

Sigurd caught onto his tone. “Disappointed that I did?”

“Let’s just say that Danes aren’t exactly reputable around here. They’ve brought much pain to our lands, and so far, I have no reason to believe you won’t do the same.”

The viking couldn’t help but throw back a humorous retort. “Well, good thing I’m a Norse, then.”

Edric sighed in annoyance. “Norse, Dane -- it makes no difference. You’re all pagans in my eyes. My father may have entrusted you with my life, but that does not mean I’m willing to hand it over.”

“You know, for someone who went through the trouble of rescuing me, you don’t seem too enthusiastic to have me around.”

“And why should I be? My siblings may pray for your recovery, but that is only because they are naive to the horrors of this war. They have not seen the cruelty of your people, nor what they did to our brother.”

Sigurd switched to a more serious tone. “...Yes, Edlynne told me about Gareth.”

Edric glanced at him. “Did she? I suppose I’m not surprised. She seems to be drawn to you. But what she says is true. Gareth was killed about a month ago. Near Grantebridge. It happened during an assault. The Danes just... cut him down like some sort of animal. We received word about it a week later.”

The viking’s expression sank with empathy. “Do you know who’s responsible for his death?”

The man glowered in anger. “We do, actually. According to Algar’s scouts, it was the Raven Clan who brought his life to an end.”

Sigurd shook his head in disbelief. “...Are you certain? I have crossed paths with the Raven Clan before, and I can assure you, they are not the type to display such unnecessary cruelty. They have always been men and women of honor.”

Edric scoffed. “Your people and mine have very different definitions of honor, Sigurd. We consider mercy and justice to be honorable traits. Your people would sacrifice a defenseless man to one of their gods all in the name of war.”

The ealdorman’s son decided to drop the subject and ended the conversation with a huff, making haste to their destination.

“But enough of that. We’ve reached the armory. You can find gear for yourself in here.”

Swinging open the iron-braced door, Edric stepped aside and allowed Sigurd to go in first, revealing a room full of valuable equipment.

All around him, there were racks decorated with a wide variety of swords, shields, axes, flails -- and in the center of the room, there stood an impressive array of armored models, glimmering in the light like a shining mirror.

“Have a look around,” Edric said, leaning against a wall. “I doubt any of this armor will actually fit a man of your stature, but when you find something you like, we’ll take it to our blacksmith and have him adjust it for you. Be mindful, though. Some of it is heavier than it looks.”

Walking up to one of the armor displays, Sigurd took a moment to examine its durability and leaned closer to the outfit, meticulously observing its components.

The first layer was made up of a suit of chainmail that draped over the entire body and had a light gambeson to pad it underneath, similar to the one Edric wore. It was protected by a sturdy shell of plate armor that covered all the limbs, and had a full helm sitting atop its shoulders.

A fashionable cape bearing the sigil of Aegenwulf’s house hung from the pauldrons, and upon further inspection, Sigurd noticed that extra care had been put into making sure there were very few weak points for a blade to sneak in.

It was very impressive in its design, but despite its resistant nature and ability to block out any attacks, Sigurd couldn’t help but note how unbearably dense it was.

The multiple layers of armor made it almost impossible for its wearer to move around freely, and just based on how much it seemed to strain the model that it currently rested on, Sigurd assumed it would’ve been more of a burden than a benefit.

“Do you have anything lighter than this?” He asked Edric, gesturing to the suit.

The young man shook his head. “That is the light armor. You want something heavy, you should take a look at what Algar is wearing.”

Sigurd tapped his knuckles against the armor’s chest, emitting a metallic clang. “This is the light armor? How can anyone fight while wearing this? It’s far too restrictive.”

Edric walked next to Sigurd, observing the display with him.

“Well, it’s made out of metal. Of course it’s going to be heavy. I’m not sure what your warriors wear, but this is what our soldiers have always used.”

The viking crossed his arms, throwing yet another humorous reply at him. “Hmm. Well, as thick as your armor is, I’m afraid it hinders you. Much like your own skull.”

The Saxon grew irritated. “Look, just pick something, alright? If you are to be my guardian, I’d sleep far better at night knowing you were properly equipped for the job. You can’t bloody well fight in your loins.”

Sigurd grinned. “...Is that a challenge?”

Edric sighed deeply. “Lord grant me patience. I’m going to regret this.”

The Norse let out a soft chuckle, amused at the nobleman’s vexed mood. Before he could carry on with his search though, a sudden thought appeared in his mind, providing him with a possible compromise.

“What about my old armor? Do you still have it?”

“You mean the one you were wearing when we fetched you out the river? I believe so, but most of it has been ruined. The only parts of it you could salvage would probably be the tunic and the cloak.”

Sigurd was satisfied with that. “Then it will be enough. I can use the the tunic instead of the gambeson. It will be less protection, but I’ll be able to move faster.”

Edric shrugged in defeat. “Very well. Whatever works for you. Just make sure you’re able to fight at your best. I can defend myself well enough, but it’s my siblings that I fear for.”

The viking began removing the armor from the display. “Have no fear, my lord. Joseph and Edlynne went to great lengths to save me. I won’t allow any harm to come to them.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Edric strode over to the armory’s entrance, saying one last thing before taking his leave.

“I’ll find Linette and ask her where she’s keeping your old gear. In the meantime, you focus on bringing that armor to our blacksmith. He’ll make sure it fits you to the bone, and can possibly even find you a new weapon to wield. Just be quick about it.”

Sigurd nodded. “Understood. Oh, and one more thing, my lord?”

The young man glanced at him. “Yes? What is it?”

He softened his voice. “...Thank you. For convincing your father to spare me.”

Edric turned away from Sigurd, reluctant to open up to the man. “I did not save you out of kindness, Norse. Do not forget that. You are simply an asset to my father. No more, no less.”

The viking smiled in return. “Still, I owe you my life. Even if your motivations were not the most... noble, you have done more than most Saxons would. And I thank you for that.”

Edric pretended to brush off Sigurd’s remarks, but the Norse could tell he was appreciative.

“Well, just make sure you do your part. My father is taking a great risk trusting you like this, and I would not see it be in vain.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THAT NIGHT

SIGURD’S QUARTERS

Standing in the midst of his new quarters, Sigurd rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck as he adjusted to his suit of armor, trying to get a feel for its limitations.

The armor was far heavier than the one he used to wear during his time with the Raven Clan, but unfortunately for the viking, his Saxon friends seemed to value protection over agility, and thus, he had been forced to settle for this shell of metal.

It would take some time for Sigurd to adapt to its hefty design, what with all the plates of iron that now sat on his limbs, but luckily, not all of it was Saxon craftsmanship.

Beneath the layer of chainmail, Sigurd wore the same tunic that he always adorned back when he still had his Dane armor, and instead of keeping the cape that once hung from the pauldrons, he had substituted the accessory with his signature fur cloak, allowing him to walk freely without fear of tangling a cape between his legs.

It wasn’t exactly the type of protection that Sigurd would’ve normally settled for, but considering the alternative options he saw in the armory, he supposed it was the best he was going to get for now.

Strolling over to his bed, Sigurd took a seat on the edge and let himself rest for a moment, finally giving his wounds the chance they needed to heal. It had been a long day of running around all over the castle and tending to his duties, but even with everything that had happened already, the viking still found himself unable to comprehend his new reality.

Just this morning, he had been a prisoner of Aegenwulf and awaited his possible execution in the throne room, wondering if he’d even live long enough to see the sunset.

Everyone in this castle regarded him as nothing more than a lapdog for the ealdorman, and thanks to all the secrecy that surrounded his presence, a plethora of rumors had sparked amongst the pandemonium, causing people to grow even more fearful of him.

But now... here he was, a personal bodyguard for the ealdorman’s children, and sitting in his own chambers. He had been given a chance to start a new life, and possibly, even find out what happened to the rest of his clan.

It was the stuff of sagas, Sigurd thought, to go through what he had endured. Part of him wondered if this was all some dream and if he was still floating in the river, but if this was the path that the Nornir had lain out before him, Sigurd had no intentions of fighting against it.

He truly believed that everyone was tied into a certain fate, after all, and he could not deny that he was curious to see where his led to.

Breaking him out of his thoughts, an unexpected knock suddenly emitted from the door, leading Sigurd to gaze in its direction. 

“One moment.” He said, pushing himself up from the bed.

Walking over to the entrance, Sigurd pulled the door open and immediately felt his heart tighten with worry as he laid eyes on his guest, finding none other than Algar himself standing on the other side.

“Good evening, my lord.” The housecarl greeted with a malicious grin. “Hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Sigurd’s tone flattened with frustration. “What is it you want, Algar? Is there something you need from me? Or have you come to taunt me more?”

Algar shook his head. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I simply came to make sure that your new quarters are to your liking.”

The viking crossed his arms. “So I see. And what’s the real reason?”

The other man laughed. “Distrustful one, aren’t you? Can a man not take care of his friends without arousing suspicion anymore? I only wish to see how well you fare. After all, I’m certain that these chambers must dim in comparison to the quarters you once had.”

Sigurd furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you were a jarl, were you not? Before you came to Wedenscire?”

The Norse fell silent at that, suddenly feeling a sense of alarm. What exactly was going on here?

Algar chuckled at Sigurd’s concerned expression and stepped closer to the man, prowling towards him like a beast.

“...Oh, yes. I know who you are, son of Styrbjorn. I must admit, you took me by surprise when I first saw you in Linette’s infirmary. I was certain my men had finished you off back in Ravensthorpe... but it appears I was not nearly as thorough as I thought.”

Sigurd glared at Algar with the gaze of a lion, clenching his jaw in anger.

“...You?” He whispered vehemently, his eyes widened with shock. “You were the one who destroyed my home...?”

The housecarl nodded casually. “Indeed. Under Aegenwulf’s command. He sought vengeance after the death of his son, you see, and I was more than willing to help. It took me quite a while to track your clan down and devise an assault, but once everything was in place, your village burned like firewood. Even your own brother could not defend his people.”

Sigurd stared at Algar directly in the eye, his gaze practically piercing through the man’s skull.

“What did you do to Eivor?”

Algar smiled widely, revealing a row of yellow-tinted teeth. “...Only what he deserved.”

The housecarl reached into his pouch and pulled out a specific item, presenting it to Sigurd in his palm. The item appeared to be a small blade decorated with golden plating and green jewels, and--

...Wait.

Sigurd froze in horror.

No. It couldn’t be. Was that...?

“Your brother’s most prized possession,” Algar explained. “A concealed blade that we tore from his wrist after he died. The weapon was damaged in our little scuffle, but I decided to keep it nonetheless. ‘Tis a thing of beauty, after all.”

Sigurd suddenly felt a newfound rage kindling inside him and lurched at the housecarl, causing the other man to pin him against the wall.

“Now, now...” Algar taunted, restraining the viking’s wrists in his grasp, “let’s not do anything foolish, shall we?”

Sigurd struggled relentlessly in his hold, completely forgetting about his injuries now. “I’ll gut you, you argr dog...!”

The Saxon smirked. “I wouldn’t recommend that, not after Aegenwulf has placed so much trust in you. You’re quite fortunate, you know? I tried to inform him of your true identity back in the throne room, but it seems his halfwitted son got into his ear before I could.”

“Then why not tell him now?” Sigurd growled. “Why waste your time tormenting me?”

“Because regardless of our disagreements, Aegenwulf is right about one thing. You are clearly much stronger than you look. Most Saxons would consider the Wolf-Kissed to be the best warrior in your clan, and yet, you managed to survive where he could not. You evaded death against all odds, and found a place amongst our nobility, despite being a Norse. You are a warrior in a world of weaklings, and it would be foolish to waste your skills.”

Algar leaned forward, twisting Sigurd’s arm in his grip. “But do not mistake my compliance for absolution. If you step even a toe out of line, you can be certain that Aegenwulf will be informed of who you really are.”

He threw Sigurd to the ground, looming over him like a shadow.

“What happens now depends entirely on you, Sigurd. You can either follow Aegenwulf’s orders like a good little boy and live your life as the Lone Wolf, or pursue this pointless quest for revenge and die as the jarl who failed to protect his people. The decision is yours. Choose wisely.”

Leaving the viking alone with his thoughts, Algar stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him, causing a loud thud to echo throughout the chamber as the torches flickered in the wind.

Meanwhile, Sigurd remained fallen on the floor like a discarded corpse and clenched his fists in agony, completely devastated by the news he just heard.

There was no way Eivor could be dead. Not like this.

Eivor was strong; stronger than any of them. He always carried the favor of the gods ever since he was a child, and achieved the impossible as if it were nothing.

Sigurd refused to believe that a battered, old hound such as Algar himself could defeat him. He must’ve been mistaken.

Sigurd survived the ambush in Ravensthorpe, so why couldn’t he?

Until he saw Eivor’s corpse with his own two eyes, the viking promised himself that he wouldn’t give up on the man, no matter how daunting the path ahead may have seemed. There was more to this than Algar was letting on, and Sigurd intended to dig up the full truth -- even if it would cost him his life.

He would have to play along with Aegenwulf’s plans for now, for the sake of staying alive. But when the time came, Sigurd would overcome this obstacle that the gods had placed in front of him, and reclaim his honor as a drengr worthy of Valhalla’s halls.

It was what Eivor would’ve wanted for him, Sigurd assumed. The Wolf-Kissed was a warrior of legendary renown, and if what Algar said really was the truth, then Sigurd did not wish for his brother to roam the fields of Fólkvangr alone.

It was the only fate acceptable for a bloodline such as his, and he did not intend to let it slip by.

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XI

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Idfk probably swearing?

• • • 

“How are you feeling?”

There wasn’t really an answer ready to be shot out at Owens when he asked that. It was the usual question asked by doctors when they wanted to get in your head, see what they needed to see to know if you were mentally alright. This felt like a mental evaluation after all. 

You shrugged a bit and Joyce gently elbowed your arm that was against the wooden armrest. Looking at her you saw the worried look on her face. It was just a few days before Christmas, and none of you wanted to be here, let alone you. 

No, the depression den that had become of the single bedroom apartment you’d been moved into was calling your name. The two liters of soda that contained more caffeine than necessary were also calling you. 

The fear of falling asleep was overwhelming, and you knew that the cheap concealer you’d bought wasn’t completely hiding the dark bags under your eyes. 

“It’s perfectly okay to not know how you feel. I don’t I think I would either-”

“When I was younger, my favorite movie was ‘Back to the Future,’ has that come out yet?” You doubted it, having not seen any posters or seen the VHS tape in the video store the last time you were there with Steve.

Owens mimicked your shrug from just seconds before. “I haven’t heard of it.”

“Right. Well, Marty McFly is the main character. And is forced into the past. . . 1955, I’m pretty sure. He’s from 85.’ But his parents are teenagers, his age in 55.’ When I was like four, I’d sprained my ankle at a park. We had gotten back from the ER, I was in a brace and Dad went to put my little brother down for a nap. Pa put on ‘Back to the Future.’ After that I always thought time travel was cool.” 

Joyce’s hand grabbed yours in a comforting manner, her thumb rubbing gentle circles into your knuckles while you continued speaking. 

“But in every movie and tv show they could go back. It could be difficult to do it. But they always did. They went back home. ‘Hot Tub Time Machine,’ ‘Avengers,’ ‘Doctor Who!’ They could go back. But I can’t, I’m stuck in the past and you’ve all said that I can’t go home.”

“You also said you didn’t want to go back to the ‘Upside Down’”

“You also didn’t offer any alternatives. Or even try to find them.”

Owens was quiet now, his face unreadable, blank of any expression while the two of you held eye contact and Joyce awkwardly sat and watched the two of you have an unspoken staring contest. 

“I’m sad, and I’m angry. But mostly, sad. Because my dad and my pa said they wanted to raise my brother and I. And now they can’t finish raising me, cause I’m here. And I won’t see them for another 36 years. Maybe not even then. I’ll be like, 50. I could be dead by then.”

“Y/n,” Joyce spoke softly. “Don’t say that, you’ll be alright.”

“We don’t know that.” You looked at Joyce, and while her eyes were soft and full of sympathy while she continued holding your hand while you let her. “You asked how I’m feeling?” You looked back at Owens whose own face seemed to offer sympathy as well. “I’m always sad and angry. And I feel like I’m going crazy because I can hear Danny’s voice and a woman’s and I’m sleep deprived because everytime I do sleep I have these awful nightmares-”

“Voices?” 

The moment he interrupted you, you wanted to run. But instead, you froze up. And the first thing, or rather person you wanted, was Steve. But why? You thought. Maybe it’s because he’d been there for you even though you called him in the very early morning, before the sun was even up. 

“Y/n?” Joyce questioned while you looked down at your own lap, as though the details in your high waisted jeans were suddenly very interesting. 

•••

The thing on your head pressed almost painfully into the nape of your neck and into your temples, Owens seemed to not be the biggest fan of even bringing you into this room and seemed put off when a nurse put the thing on your head. 

It was freaking you out, making you feel like you were crazy. But then again, everything and everyone made you feel crazy, or different, or like you could break in a single second. It had you wishing that you could go back to a few nights ago, where you and Steve had driven two counties over and back. This isn’t the place you wanted to be a few days before Christmas. 

“They’re going to turn on something, It could trigger the things you see, or hear, okay?” You looked up at the woman who adjusted the headpiece and nodded a bit before she left the room. 

You looked over at Owens before down at the table in front of you. The sound turned on. It was a simple white noise, with a bit of a background to it. You blinked once and heard another voice you recognized. 

“Just try, that’s all I need you to do.” Looking up you saw Brenner, a hand on a little girl’s shoulder. She wasn’t much older than three, and seemed to be in distress. You looked at the girl who then looked up at you, making eye contact from the other side of the table. She slowly turned her wrists over and on her right wrist you could see the numbers ‘012’ tattooed into the skin. 

You blinked again, and it was gone, as well as the sound. “Owens, we got something.” He left the room, leaving you to your own thoughts. 

If Eleven was ‘011’ and then that little girl was ‘012,’ were there others? And if so, how many got out alive? How did she see you? They were running through your mind at lightning speed that you didn’t notice when the sound came back on, but you did notice the little girl again, this time, maybe a bit older, staring at you intently, as if she was waiting for you. 

She looked familiar. And for a moment you could have sworn that she reminded you of your little brother. “Hi.” You greeted quietly. 

‘012’ tilted her head a bit before repeating your word back. “Hi.” Eleven had done the same thing when something like this happened. She repeated your word back. 

“Like me.” She mumbled looking at you. Now you tilted your head in confusion but she grabbed your hand from across the table and pointed to the cheap watch you’d bought after you no longer had a phone to carry around, and then to her eyes. “Like me.”

“I don’t understand?”

“You see,” She pointed to her eyes again before pointing to your watch. 

“Time?” 

She nodded.

She was gone when the white noise was, leaving you in silence, and alone in the white clinical room, with the headpiece still on. 

12, You thought. Who is she?

•••

Joyce stood by the windows of the office, looking out to see you and Will sitting in the chairs down the hall. Will was reading a comic and you were listening to your walkman, which Joyce noticed you had begun to carry with you everywhere. 

She was worried. How could she not be? You were her granddaughter who wouldn’t be born for a long time, whose mental health seemed to be spiraling down the drain. She’d noticed the amount of caffeine you drank, how your concealer couldn’t hide the bags under your eyes. It was impossible to not notice how awkward you acted around Will.

Joyce and Hopper were just waiting for Owens to come back with whatever the test results to say. They’d taken you away for hours, and since you’d gotten back, you hadn’t spoken to anyone. You just listened to your music and stared off into space.  

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Hopper spoke up from his seat in front of Owens’ desk, where you’d previously been sitting. He’d been out in the hall with Will until they took you for testing, not allowing either of them back with you. 

Joyce looked back at Hopper and gave an unsure nod. Looking back to the hall where the two of you sat, she saw Will showing you the pages of his comic. She could see the similarities between you two. The way your brows furrowed when listening to something and concentrating were the same, and the little nervous tick that Will had of picking at his jeans while sitting down, also seemed to be your own nervous tick. She’d noticed how’d you been doing it when Hopper opened the car door for you when they got to the lab, and when you’d been in the office. 

“What do you thinks wrong?”

“What?”

“Joyce,” Hopper started. “It’s obvious that you think something’s wrong.”

She sighed and crossed her arms, walking away from the window and sitting in the seat next to him. “I don’t know. I just have a weird feeling whenever I look at her. Like she- she’s my family, she’s my granddaughter, technically. But there’s something else to her. . . She reminds me a bit of Eleven.” She admitted. 

Something about you reminded her of the girl. But it was only until recently when she was able to place it. Over a month after the events of early November. Something about the air surrounding you made it hard not to be reminded of the twelve year old. 

Before Hopper can say anything, the door opened and Owens walked in, a confused look on his face while he walked the short distance from the door to his seat on the other side of the desk. 

“There’s nothing wrong with her.” is what he started with, looking confused while he opened the folder he’d carried in. “Brain scan came back normal, her psych evaluation was normal, everything about her, except for the situation she’s in, is normal.” 

Hopper tilted his head a bit, not quite understanding. They pulled you away for hours, leaving the three of them completely in the dark, only to say that you were fine? Even though you said you heard voices, and saw things in your sleep. 

“I’m sorry?” Hopper questioned.

“The most we can say is that she has PTSD, and with what little we know about it, she can have flashbacks, and auditory flashbacks aren’t out of the picture. She might just be hearing things she’s heard before.”

“Yeah, but she said she heard a woman she’s never heard before?” Joyce looked to Hopper before back at Owens who shrugged a bit. 

“Probably a teacher she mostly forgot about. It could be a repressed memory. Or it could be the voice of a babysitter she just doesn’t remember.” 

While that would make sense, considering you said the woman would sometimes sing, Joyce didn’t buy it. You said that Will stayed home while you were growing up. Working from home so he could keep an eye on you, and so you always had someone. It wouldn’t make sense for you to have had a babysitter. 

Hopper thought it was suspicious, with the confused look Owens had on his face before giving an answer he seemed sure about. It didn’t settle right with him. He was sure Owens was just giving an answer they’d want to hear. 

“Just be patient with her. I’m going have someone prescribe her sleeping pills so she can get some sleep-”

Hopper blocked out what he was saying, because the truth was, he had the same thoughts on you as Joyce. You oddly reminded him of Eleven as well and he didn’t believe a single thing that Owens was saying

•••

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @jxnehxpper @yllwtaxi @songofcosplay @potatopooper05 @cheesecakeisapie @robinsdolan @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @the_passionate_freak @bisexualpears​ @ilovebucketbarnes @random-thoughts-003

[ravnicaforgoblins]

Ravnica for Goblins

Bars & Taverns

It may be a Dungeons & Dragons cliché, but the reason is solid enough. Bars & taverns are a good place for characters to meet up, adventures to start, information to be gathered, and spontaneous fights to break out because the Fighter/Barbarian wants to hit something.

Seeing as Ravnica is only ever one person’s absence from descending into complete chaos, it’s very important to have places for its citizens to have a drink, have a bite, sing bad songs, and blow off steam. Whether you are an Izzet researcher looking for people to bounce invention ideas off of, a Rakdos cultist looking to build up your fanbase, a Boros wojek getting off a three-week shift in the Rubblebelt, or a Dimir agent eavesdropping on persons of interest; a bar can offer something for everyone. All the establishments listed below are canonical, aka from official Ravnica Lore, but in keeping with the tradition of said lore, there’s very little in the way of description and a good number of them exist outside the District 10 map you have to work with. Are you even surprised anymore? Anyway, here are some of the most intriguing watering holes to grab a drink in.

The First Vineyard

Located in Old Rav (Ninth District), one of the deeper & older areas of Ravnica, lies a Golgari tavern whose main claim to fame is that it is Ravnica’s oldest tavern. How old? Who knows. Considering the Golgari have embraced death, rot, preservation, and fermentation as a way of life, it’s a reasonably safe bet you’ll find the oldest and most well-aged wines in the entire plane in this spot. Some of these bottles are probably older than the Guildpact.

If you need to impress someone fancy and you don’t mind being surrounded by the smell of death, this is the place to go. Orzhov believe expensive taste coincides with great taste and thus place high value on objects of (predictably) high value. Hence they have pretty much cornered the market on the kind of expensive goods they value, meaning one has to buy Orzhov to fit in with Orzhov and one has to be Orzhov to afford to buy Orzhov. If you want to skip all that, this should be your first & only stop. This vineyard won’t break your bank, and a little prestidigitation is all it takes to prepare it for the most snobbish of advokists. As with most things Golgari, the recipient is always much happier not knowing where (or who) the cuisine came from.

Titan’s Keg Tavern

Also located in the Ninth District, in the burned-down & often rebuilt neighborhood of Merrytown, lies a pub designed specifically for clients of particularly advanced vertical prowess, aka, GIANTS. At least 4 different guilds include giants among their ranks (Boros, Orzhov, Gruul, Rakdos), and while the city has gone to notable lengths to accommodate these individuals in all city establishments, whether a chair can withstand one sitting down can still be pretty hit or miss. But not here.

This bar is the best place in Ravnica to find a giant, regardless of guild. This is also the best place in town to eat in silence without causing any fuss. Not because it’s quiet, it certainly isn’t (can you even imagine giant karaoke?), but because every patron in this bar is at least 12ft tall, smashes things for a living, and comes here so they can forget about little people for a while. If you are the little person who disrupts that, you are going to have a giant-sized tavern full of angry giant-sized GIANTS teach you some manners. And it doesn’t matter what level you’re at, 25 giants will kill you.

Just getting into this tavern can be an adventure. As the tavern’s main draw is that it’s built specifically for giants, not being one gives you a definite disadvantage. Imagine walking in and a 15ft-tall host (in a suit) asks you if you have a reservation. Imagine trying to muscle your way in passed a Giant in sunglasses who has skipped “bouncer” and gone straight to “splatter”. Imagine a heavily tattooed Bolrac Clan Smasher meeting you at the door with “Welcome to Giant’s Keg Tavern. How tough you?” Imagine a line scrawled on the entrance that says “you must be this tall to enter”.

The Smoking Wreckage

Located in the 4th Precinct of District 10 (huzzah, something actually on the map), the Smoking Wreckage is a (you might have guessed it) Izzet League bar. Expect mixology taken to places it’s never been before. Your drink may bubble, fizzle, explode, polymorph you into a viashino, trigger a wild magic surge, or teleport you into Ral Zarek’s personal laboratory. Or worse, it might get you drunk enough to try another one.

Most likely you won’t have to worry about bar brawls in here, the beer itself is far more dangerous than the broken bottle. Remember, the name isn’t just for flavor in here. This bar is still an Izzet facility and prone to spontaneous uncontrolled reaction; i.e. blowing up. The setup that makes all of this possible makes The Smoldering Wreckage just as much a laboratory as anything in Nivix, except with booze added to the equation.

And you thought Rakdos clubs were dangerous.

The Broken Toybox and Gore House

Speak of the Demon and his pubs shall appear. Hidden discreetly in Precinct 6 are Gore House, a club notorious even by Rakdos standards, and The Broken Toybox, a tavern/brothel that definitely doesn’t have anything strange going on in the basement. You don’t really go to either of these places for the food.

(Dramatic Voice) You go looking for trouble.

What can you expect at a typical Rakdos club? Blood, pain, fire, sharp objects, and entertainment that is guaranteed to take someone’s breath away. So for Gore House, expect that dialed up to eleven. This is where the heavy hitters of the Cult of Rakdos do their biggest shows. Judith the Scourge Diva, Masters of Cruelty, Blood Witches, and rising stars desperate to give the audience a show they’ll never forget, no matter how hard they try. Attendance is synonymous with madness; if you aren’t crazy going in, you will be walking out. If waking up with no memories of the night before next to a dead body and covered in someone else’s blood was a club, it’d be Gore House.

As for The Broken Toybox, if the name alone doesn’t steer you away, you may already be beyond hope. "Den of Sin” just barely scratches the surface. This is where the Cult brings your most twisted and depraved dreams to life behind closed doors with spiked chains on them. If you or a member of your party wants to go here alone, you might need to have a serious conversation with them. This is not a fun toybox. The only rational reason for delving into this dark sanctuary is trying to find something nasty. A Sire of Insanity lurking in the basement suites, a lead on Massacre Girl’s safe house, or an influential figure with dark secrets. You may wish you didn’t have darkvision after a visit.

Bitter End Tavern

Hidden within Avaric, an official Orzhov territory, but one harboring deep anti-guild atmosphere, lies the Bitter End Tavern. While not officially a Guildless-Only bar, you can definitely expect some nasty looks from the patrons if you are flashing any Guild insignias. It technically exists outside the Ten Districts, so put it wherever you want. Guildless don’t have a ton of lore, which makes this a good location for any storylines or NPCs you might have designed that don’t really fit in with any of the 10 Guilds or even Ravnica as a whole. You can basically hang a sign over the door saying “Homebrews Welcome”.

You might find ancient worshipers of the Nephilim gathered here, or groups plotting a coup against a powerful member of a particular guild. Sooner or later, any notable Guildless or Anti-Guild individual will end up here for a bite. Same time, you can also find large groups of people willing to help out other un-affiliated citizens navigate this confusing cityscape world. Heroes of the Precinct likely drink for free here, and they’re always willing to help someone in a bad place with no one else to turn to. A certain mad Voidwielder might also pop in for a nightcap between insane schemes as well. Or just your garden-variety NPC commoners in bulk, lest we forget half the population of Ravnica is Guildless.

[velvet-helvetica]

Fireworks in Goodneighbor

Here's my gift for @falloutfandomeventhub’s #Celebradiation2020, written for @bi-mirandalawson! This scene takes place immediately after Fallout 4′s Dangerous Minds quest. It features dialogue between Hancock and Deacon, with cameos by Magnolia and Nick. There’s also a hint at a Sole Survivor femslash pairing, although the exact pairing is not specified. Enjoy!

It was the fireworks that woke him from his psychedelic slumber. At first he thought the fireworks were in his head—a pleasant side effect of the cocktail of chems he had imbibed several hours before. But the colors, the emotions were wrong. They didn’t stir him the way they should. As he squinted, he realized the fireworks were streaming in from the boarded-up windows.

They were coming from outside, across the street. From the Memory Den. A massive power surge had temporarily lit up the entire building. The marquee lights snaked along their path in a frenzy, lights up and down the building flashed interchangeably. Sparks flew from a previously-unseen Tesla tower on the roof, showering the street below with discharged electricity.

Then as suddenly as the fireworks show began, the Memory Den grew cold and dim. Then the building illumination returned to normal, the marquee blinking its obsolete advertisement for a centuries-old vaudeville act.

What the hell is that doctor up to now? Hancock wondered.

The Mayor stumbled off of his lounger and wandered out of the Statehouse, determined to find answers. But as he stepped outside, the crossing to the Square zoomed back, suddenly seeming very far away. His head wasn’t quite right yet.

He leaned against the doorway of the Statehouse, content to idly observe the ebb and flow of nocturnal street life. Through his hazy drug-addled vision, he glimpsed a private eye with a metal arm staggering past, muttering strange phrases in a low sandpaper voice. Moments later, two women scurried past him—one of them wearing a bright blue Vault suit. Their arms interlocked, they giggled inebriated as they headed straight for the Hotel Rexford.

Heh, they’re gonna get some tonight, thought Hancock. Good for them.

Whatever had happened at the Den, the main players were already gone. Instead of pursuing the mystery any further, he headed to the Third Rail. Hancock casually saluted the bouncer then sauntered down the stairs.

From afar, Hancock spied a lone man seated at the bar, nursing a half drunken glass of scotch. Strange to find him here before happy hour, the Mayor thought.

Hancock slipped onto the empty stool beside him. Deacon popped up his sunglasses and regarded the ghoul seated next to him.

“Well hello, Mister ‘Of the People, For the People.’’’

“Hey my man. How’s my favorite secret agent?” 

They exchanged a series of friendly fist bumps, then Hancock ordered his current favorite, a gin and Quantum from Whitechapel Charlie.

While he waited for the robot barkeep to mix his drink, Hancock eyed Deacon’s latest disguise. He was bald today, with a threadbare plaid shirt and a beat-up pair of old jeans. The sunglasses, which looked custom-molded to his perfectly square eyebrows and weathered features, threw off what would otherwise be a spot-on drifter impression.

“I thought you agents were all about tailored suits and tuxedos rather than that bum get-up you wear all the time. Live a little, man! Dress up! Have some pride.”

“This from the man wearing the ruffled ascot of our Founding Father—one who lacked the modesty to leave enough room for the co-Fathers to sign.”

“Exactly. Why go half-ass when you can be as fabulous as this?” Hancock gestured his arm down his body with a flourish.

Deacon laughed. “Hey, I can be fancy when I want to be. This particular mission required a little more subtlety, that’s all.”

Whitechapel Charlie set Hancock’s glass on the sticky bar top, which emitted an eerie blue glow. Hancock picked up his drink, threw his head back and downed the cocktail all in one go, then exhaled a satisfied sigh.

Deacon raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you get all fancy with the gin and Quantums? I thought you were all about ‘keepin’ it real’.” Deacon added air quotes with his fingers for added emphasis.

“I’m still keepin’ it real, man,” Hancock insisted. So what if his drink choices lately were a step up from the moonshine of his drifter days? He was Mayor of this town now, dammit. He could drink whatever the hell he wanted. Secretly though, he was annoyed that Deacon had struck a nerve.

“If you say so, Mister Mayor,” Deacon replied skeptically. He spun his glass around, then put it to his lips, slipping the last slivers of scotch into his mouth.

The ghoul let his remark slide. He bought the agent another scotch and ordered himself some vodka. Hancock wanted to find out what the hell was going on in his own town, and talking to Deacon was the fastest way to get answers.

“Hey Deac, you see anything go down at the Memory Den? I was having the most mind-blowing trip, man, ‘til all this shit starts flashin’ in my eyes. How’s a ghoul supposed to come down easy when his own town’s blowing up on him?”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Deacon cracked. “You have your blue newcomer to thank for the fireworks.”

“The Vault Dweller?”

“Yep, her and Nick Valentine. They gifted Doctor Amari some brains from the dearly departed Kellogg.”

“Kellogg’s dead? Shiiiittt.” Hancock shook his head, taking in the news. “Good. Fuckin’ bastard deserved it.”

“Amen to that, brother.” Deacon and Hancock clinked glasses, drinking to celebrate the death of the Commonwealth’s most despised mercenary.

“So they took Kellogg’s brains downstairs to do some Frankenstein shit, I take it.”

“Something like that. I wasn’t in the room where it happened... But from what I gathered, they hooked Nick to Kellogg’s grey matter, judging by how he looked afterwards. Was even talking like Kellogg for a bit.”

“Damn. Must’ve been some head trip.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I don’t know how they probed into his noggin’, but they drained the power grid while doing it. My poor Barbara even glitched out a few times.”

“Aww... You still seeing your old flame?” Hancock asked. Deacon winced, briefly regretting bringing up his dead wife. 

“Yeah,” Deacon admitted finally. He sighed as he finished his second drink.

“Hey, man, it’s cool, we all got our vices,” Hancock assured, patting Deacon on the back. “But if you ask me, chems are way easier for forgetting your problems. And cheaper.” He fished out some Jet from his pocket. “Want one? On the house.”

“Nah, I’m cool,” Deacon politely declined. “That’s the difference between you and me. I don’t wanna forget all that stuff.”

“Suit yourself.” Hancock took a puff of Jet, and wiggled his head to work in the high.

Deacon continued his story. “Anyway, Irma only charged me for a quickie—I mean, I wasn’t in there that long.” Hancock chuckled as Deacon corrected himself. “Just long enough to say hi, tell her how things are going. That I miss her.”

“What a sweetheart you are. That Babs was one lucky gal to have you.”

Deacon scoffed. “Anyway, what do you care how I spend my caps? I thought you’d be happy with me building up your precious tax base.”

Hancock was taken aback. “That hurts, Deac. That really hurts. That cuts me deep.” 

Hancock leaned into Deacon, jabbing a leathery hand into his own chest. “You think I’m just about the money? Don’t get me wrong—I love my money. But that ain’t what this is about.”

Deacon smirked. “Then what is it about?”

Hancock waved him off. The ghoul stared off into the distance, shaking his head in disappointment. Then he grabbed his glass and gulped down his vodka.

“I don’t know anymore, man,” Hancock said at last. “You know, a few weeks back I had to kill Finn? The lil’ shit was shakin’ down that Vault Dweller as soon as she stepped into town.”

“No big loss,” Deacon dismissed. “Never liked that asshole anyway.”

“Neither did I, but that’s not the point. The point is... I wanted Goodneighbor to be for everybody. For drifters like me, the ghouls, the gangsters, the misfits...even for lil’ shits like Finn. But then I had to turn around and kill him. And I’ve been shakin’ down people for stealing from me, or stealing from the drifters.”

Hancock threw up his hands. “What’s wrong with me? Since when did I turn into the Man?”

Deacon laughed. “Whoo, Hancock. You know what they say about power.”

“This ain’t funny, Deac. I’m telling ya, this ain’t what I signed up for. I’m seriously thinkin’ of leaving all this shit behind. What’s the use of giving everyone freedom if things ain’t truly free?”

Deacon shook his head. “I don’t have an answer for you, pal. But it sounds like you can’t make up your mind about what you want.”

“Thanks. Thanks for nothing. You’re no fuckin’ help.” Deacon laughed some more as Hancock grunted in frustration.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything important, boys.” 

Magnolia had strolled into the bar unseen. She leaned in between Hancock and Deacon and flashed the pair a radiant smile.

“Not at all, doll.” Hancock pecked Magnolia on the cheek, then she turned around and kissed Deacon’s cheek. “Showtime already?” Hancock asked.

“It sure is,” she winked. “Same time as always.” She went to the stage to prepare for her set.

“Well, that’s my cue to go,” Deacon sighed, standing up. “I got a feeling things are gonna get busy soon at HQ.” He dropped a few caps as a courtesy tip, ignoring Whitechapel Charlie’s preprogrammed grumblings.

Hancock stood up too. “You’re not gonna stay for the show?”

Deacon shook his head. “Nah. She’s lovely, but you know there’s only one synth for me... No offense, Mags,” Deacon added, acknowledging Magnolia out of courtesy.

“None taken, hon,” Magnolia replied. “You stay safe helping my friends, you hear?” She adjusted her microphone and began her first song.

I see you lookin’ ‘round the corner Come on inside and pull up a chair No need to feel like a stranger Cause we're all a little strange in here.

“Okay, bro, see ya later,” Hancock said, fist bumping Deacon as a goodbye. “You know you and your buddies can lay low here anytime. Even if all ya do is give me shit.”

“Appreciate it, dude.” Deacon grabbed Hancock’s forearm and whispered a warning into his ear. “Hey, man, watch out for the Institute.”

Hancock scoffed. “Pssht. The Institute can’t fuck with us, man. Goodneighbor’ll never stand for their shit.”

“I hope so, man. Just don’t underestimate them. They’re watching.”

As Deacon made his exit, he glanced back at the ghoul, concerned for his friend and what he feared was coming. Guess I better introduce myself to this Vault Dweller, he thought. Or better yet, have her come to me.

Pondering what Deacon said, Hancock sat back down in his stool and lit a cigarette. He exhaled a plume of smoke and reveled in the sound of Magnolia’s voice filling the room.

Have you got a history that needs erasing? Did you come in just for the beer and cigarettes? A broken down dream you're tired of chasing Oh, well I'm just the girl to make you forget.

[thebiasrekkers]

Edge of Forever [BTS!Space AU]

BTS Space!AU [ ♧ ✪ ✿ ☆ ❂ ☾✘ ] “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.” The stage is set and the stars are the guide for the lost souls that have congregated to one point. A fixed constant in the universe for others to discover and fulfill their wishes but will it come to ruin for others?

Pairings: Jin x OC | Jungkook x OC Genre: BTS Space!AU Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language

AO3

Chapter 4- Coup d’Etat

"The revolution will not be televised The revolution is in your mind The revolution is here!" 

The spaceport was usually fairly crowded with various species as well as bustling activity to loading and unloading of the ships that were docked there. The fact that there were barely any people there at all to tend to the various things going on was already odd to Jin. Even at that time of night, it should have been just as bustling then as it was in the daytime. After all, Sagittarius was a planet full of trade, commerce, and activity since it was near the center of the system. Everyone could find it, all one had to do is head to the center of the system.

Which meant that the Pirates could find them as well.

The tall, dark-haired man watched from the platform for his companions. Jin crossed his arms over his chest as a rare frown had been on his face for quite some time. His eyes had some scarring around them but the unnatural color of them showed that he had them replaced. His eyes worked to gather information from all around them, even picking up when Jungkook and the company roared in. He already had his ship running hot, prepared to blow the spaceport should he need to. He pressed his plump lips into a thin line, trying hard not to pace as he waited for them to get to the dock. The more time that he was standing there was more time that the unsettled feeling to sink in, the thought that they weren’t alone. People were quick to change sides when palms were greased, even more so in that sector.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he could see them practically running up the ramps. Jungkook and the Mao were handling the crate while the client was bringing up the rear. He already had a space that they could place the crate, safely and securely while they got away. Directing Jungkook on where to put it, the pair ran past him to get everything secured while the Ifrit came up to him. He had to crane his neck a bit to get a look at her, surprising since he was rather tall himself. Even with all his enhancements, he found it difficult to look her directly in the eye.

“I will give you the coordinates of the ship I have where you can leave us. Before that, however, I require components to fix both the ship as well as other things.”

Jin hummed and waved her on, giving another good look at the surroundings. As he turned to climb in after Nyala, a bullet ricocheted off the hull and caused him to duck behind a crate that had been near him. Nyala turned and started to chant, the Chi gathering in her eyes again as she assisted Jin. The same voice that she had heard in the clearing of the abandoned building sounded through the area again but this time, it was more annoyed than ever.

Nyala of the Ifrit. You have disobeyed the Armada, for this--you are sentenced to death. Your companions will die as well and we will take back the Antares without you. Goodbye.

Suddenly a spray of bullets started to overwhelm them as well as various energy weapons launched their way. It was all that they could do to stay undercover because they couldn’t make the run to get into the ship. Jungkook and Vairuit tried to assist them but even they could not make it outside without getting overwhelmed. Whomever was after the client had brought a lot of people and the spaceport authorities were nowhere to be found.

“Jungkook, set the coordinates for Dragons’ Den! Let Yoongi know that we’re coming in hot!” Jin yelled out to Jungkook, who hesitated before running and polarizing the hull plating. They couldn’t have the ship breached before they even took off. Nyala, however, had a plan of her own but it was one that she had no choice now to use. Taking a moment, she reached inside of her jacket to the holster--grabbing the black and heavy gun that rested there. It had strange markings on it, little turbines lining the barrel and had some strange aura around it. Jin ducked his head again as a chunk of the crate finally came off, his line of sight catching what she was doing.

Vairuit saw as well what she was doing and grabbed a flash grenade from the storage. Counting the bullets, she waited for the small break in fire before throwing it. Nyala reached in the other side of her holster while that was happening and pulled out a strange-looking shell, popping it into the butt of the gun. Once the grenade went off, she crouched as low to the floor as she could and pointed the ominous gun at the enemy. She yelled for Jin to hold on as she squeezed the trigger. The turbines on the gun suddenly lit up, red as her eyes and spun as the gun took a couple of seconds to fire. The result was something that he would never forget, feeling the hairs on his body stand up from the energy produced.

The bullet wasn’t like normal bullets, lighting up the entire area with light. The color of the beam suddenly turned from white to an alarming red as it reached its target. The effects triggered an explosion at the end of it and started to crumble the platform that they were attached to. The firing stopped, as most of the enemy was dead but now they had to run to get to the ship which had thankfully released from the securing clamps. They barely made it to the ship as the floor quite literally fell away from their feet as the platform fell to the ground below.

Jin took one last look at the damage before the port doors closed before him. There was significant damage, structurally and superficial as the beam scorched the surrounding area when it widened from the point of origin. He didn’t stand there long as he ran to the cockpit, securing himself in the main seat. Jungkook resumed his position at one of the main weapons chairs while Vairuit did the same. Nyala sat in one of the navigations chairs, strapping her long-form in. They slowly floated away from the now ruined dock and prepared to fire their thrusters to get them out of the hangar.

Hello?! This is spaceport 5! What in the hell have you done to the dock?

An aggravated voice came on the comms and the sound of the buzzing caused Jin to grin. He tapped the button that would allow him to speak to the voice, voice full of mischief when he spoke.

“Ah yes. So sorry about that, this is the Persona. It appears that there were pirates on the dock but we took care of them. Now we’re requesting clearance and weather patterns to successfully depart planetside.”

How dare you?! We’ve received no reports of pirates! You are in direct violation of Section--

“Oh? No pirates? Shame, I sent the video and audio to authorities. So you should be able to investigate thoroughly. Now, the weather patterns and clearance?”

You will dock at number 3 and prepare to be boarded!

Various shouts of disobedience came from the others with a very hearty and colorful cursing from Vairuit before Jin could respond. He laughed, a sound that was very much like someone wiping a cloth over glass very rapidly. Shrugging his broad shoulders, he couldn’t really deny what was being said to the person over the comms. He pushed the button to end the communications and prepared the ship for space. Pressurizing the ship, reinforcing the outer hull and plotting a course for their destination. They would have to do an alternative type of liftoff since they couldn’t get the clearance or other information. They would have to blast off horizontally until they reached velocity to ascend to liftoff. He just hoped that there was nothing around them as they charged the engines.

“Well, since we don’t have clearance or even a wide-open space like normal, we’re gonna have to do a blast and run. How comfortable is everyone with G-forces?” He didn’t give anyone time to respond as he threw the switches into gear, the ship propelling forward at an alarming speed. The ship cleared the dock in a matter of seconds, burning everything behind them. They blazed past the shipyards, gaining distance between themselves and the ground far below them. Jin dodged the liftoff platforms that were out there in the fields that they were supposed to be taken to once they had clearance, yet never received it. It was a lot easier to achieve spaceflight once out there but they just had to do things the hard way, didn’t they?

The velocity was rapidly being approached as the G-forces started to press against the crew. Jin took a deep breath as he knew that this would only be the start, his body used to such forces. Setting his jaw, he pressed another set of buttons that increased the output of the engines for their next step. Gripping the sticks, he pulled them towards him as the ship climbed upwards. There was a grunt from just about everyone as the G-forces started to climb as the ascent into the clouds started. The ship started its roll maneuver as it got higher and higher in the stratosphere, passing quickly into the mesosphere. The thrusters had stopped firing and the ship was relying solely on the engines to get them through the layers of the atmosphere at a punishing pace. They climbed through the thermosphere before finally switching to their Drive engines as they exited the planet’s gravity zone.

They were all able to breathe much better in the zero-gravity of space as the ship accustomed itself to the frozen outside. Jin gave a small cough to push more air through his chest as he reached over to prepare the ship for subspace Drive mode. It would take a few minutes for the engines to calibrate and about a day’s journey to the space station that was aptly named Dragon’s Den. After all, all the sharks that traversed the waters of space traveled there for their more serious business as well as other trades. It was more of a spaceport for merchants than the planet Sagittarius was and better equipped to get what they needed for the trip.

Suddenly, alarms started to sound as a proximity warning to let them all know of surprise visitors. Everyone was glued to their screens as they tried to figure out what was going on now, their brief respite had been taken away from them.

“Jin--this is about to turn into a clusterfuck. I’m getting pirates and Federation ships, closing in fast. What do you want to do?” Jungkook called out, swiveling in his chair a bit to look at the pilot. Jin sighed sharply, slapping his cheeks to make sure that that moment was real. They had no real choice, did they? They were just about to piss everyone off that day.

“I’ll maneuver through them, you two blast whoever gets near us and you Miss Client, let me know when subspace Drive is active so I can get us the hell out of here. In the meantime, whatever I call out--I want you to punch in.”

“My name is Nyala and that is Vairuit, not Miss Client or you. And yes, I will do so.”

Nyala responded curtly, eyes pouring over the screen as her fingers flew over the buttons. Vairuit gave a laugh, ready for more action as she swung back to her screen as the weapons array lit up for her. Jungkook grinned and turned back to his as well, the same happening for him. The lights dimmed for Jin to see better and his eyes lit up as he was able to access the helm better. He had connected them to get the best maneuverability possible, that as well as his enhanced reflexes would almost make him the best pilot around. But he wasn’t going to brag in that moment as the ships descended upon them.

Taking a hard right, Jin called out for thrusters on the left to careen them faster so they wouldn’t take a hit from a Federation ship. They took a sharp arc as Jungkook lit them up on that side while Vairuit sent a volley of torpedoes to meet a section of pirates on the other side. Nyala called out that they had one minute left before the Drive would be active. Taking them through a particular dense squad of pirates, the forward cannons didn’t stop as they blew the enemy away when they pushed through. It was honestly helpful that the Federation arrived when they did so that they would be more busy with the pirates, instead of bothering to chase after one ship.

Nyala announced that the Drive was ready and the weaponry was put away, prepping for the jump. Jin took one last look at the planet before punching the buttons needed for the jump to Subspace. Hopefully, they would be out of danger’s way for the next day or so as they made their way to the Dragons’ Den.

[gnomaad]

tododeku villain au?

these are rough notes of the main plot - obviously there will be subplot involving other characters and time for tododeku and feelings to develop but this is the main gist of my idea? honestly it’s messy and a little bit wack.

Villain TodoDeku Au!

main character trivia.

- quirkless midoriya izuku. inko (mother) ends up killed during a villain attack, due to all might’s recklessness.

- age 20

- ‘morihana’ meaning forest flower.

- given a quirk by all for one; can make any kind of flower with any kind of power - tends to prefer poison which he applies to dual knives he received from his mentor.

- works with the league of villains.

- another reason for choosing the villains - he is gay and in the hero world it is not accepted.

- trained by hero killer stain.

- green tie, white shirt, ripped jeans, dark green vest, black gloves - piercings, bracelets. occasionally red lipstick (depending on how he feels).

- todoroki is already a pro hero - only uses his ice as a hero in this au.

- age 20

- apart of his father’s agency, hasn’t reconciled with his mother, has a ‘dead’ look in his eyes that izuku finds rather attractive (izuku is a fanboy)

- apart of the team hunting the elusive ‘morihana’.

- simple life, avoids people, has no friends or people he truly trusts

- still abused by his father - hasn’t seen his family since he was a child

- his hero name in this au is ‘blindice’ - given to him by his father due to him being blind and ignorant in his father’s eyes.

background info.

- hitoshi shinsou is a villain in this au; his villain name is ‘scape’, inspired by dream scape. he infiltrated ua but actually works closely with izuku.

- legally, ‘izuku midoriya’ is deceased. during the villain attack, his body was not found, assumed to have been crushed and lost during this event. he was saved by the hero killer stain, and once deemed worthy, trained to become his successor.

- todoroki has villainous tendencies that come from his desire to destroy his father - a dark look to his expression, deemed not very hero-like.

storyline!

this takes place as a series of events throughout the bnha timeline (kinda??) ((ish??)) (((not really???))).

act one

+ izuku midoriya, age 15, returns home from middle school, his spirit damaged. his favourite hero, all might, refused to save him from a villain attack. once quirkless izuku managed to escape it’s grip, giving his supposed hero time to trap the sludge, he asked his hero if he could ever be a hero. all might says no. he did not show hero spirit and had no quirk. the boy returns home with tears in his eyes, dropping his bag and turning his attention to his mother who was cooking his favourite dinner, katsudon. “welcome home izuku!” with a smile was the last thing he saw of her, before a large piece of rubble broke through their ceiling, crushing inko midoriya in an instant. izuku screamed, his mind snapping. bullied, betrayed, he cannot stop screaming and shaking. anxiety takes over, causing the boy to crumple to the floor hyperventilating, unable to see. a warmth touches his skin.

+ the hero killer stain had fallen in with the rubble, using it as his disguise to get away from the number one hero. he had seen the boy crumple to the floor, looking down, seeing the severed hand of the boy’s mother, holding a ladle. he pitied the boy the boy, in realising that the heroes of current had taken the life of another innocent. stain picks the boy up, escaping with the passed out child. he decides that this boy will become his successor.

+ he trains izuku in using dual knives, the boy’s stunted growth would make it difficult to use a sword but he was perfect for fast, quick attacks. midoriya showed great dedication, becoming an intimidating force of rapid attacks. he decides to seek out the league of villains by the time izuku is 20. izuku takes a liking to tomura shigaraki  and vice versa.

+ stain incapacitates ingenium, and is later attacked by the younger iida. during this attack, izuku watches from the roof, only to see stain momentarily frozen in his place. his attention is drawn to the back up, shouto todoroki. the darkness in his mismatched eyes, his strong physical form, his deep voice, the whole mystery around him had izuku giggling from the rooftop. deciding to get involved, he throws one of his knives at him, testing his reflexes and getting more excited as he sliced the pretty scar on the side of his face. blindice is frozen by stain, who scolds izuku for interfering with his work.

+ midoriya approaches todoroki, running gloved hand down his chest. todoroki is paralysed by his deep, emerald eyes even without the other villain’s quirk. he can’t help but find the sway in this short villain’s walk tempting, the soft yet manic smile on his lips, the innocent looking freckles contrasting with the slight bags under his beautiful eyes - it only made them stand out more. he had never seen this villain before, frozen as the boy caressed his body. “blindice, funny that you’d find me here, without even intending to find me!” izuku giggled, todoroki’s mind clicking with realisation. morihana. the quirkless villain. he reached to freeze the boy only to find himself literally paralysed.

+ midoriya finds the soft expression in shouto’s eyes too tempting as he leans up to press a kiss to the corner of the hero’s lips. the chill that ran down the hero’s spine was too tempting to him - seeing the ice cold hero with a chill made him ecstatic. izuku steps away from the hero, skipping with a little wink. he made his way back behind the hero killer, barely dodging with his fast reflexes as ice catapults stain into the air. a yell of recipro burst, and stain’s unconscious body atop a glacier. the green haired boy’s eyes widen. his mentor had been beaten. he turned to run, only to be frozen on the spot. ingenium, the other pro hero were also unconscious, due to blood loss.

+ todoroki approached the green haired villain. he grabbed him by his collar, tugging him closer as his eyes narrowed. “i don’t do favours.” he muttered. conflict was clear in the taller male’s eyes. izuku tilted his head coyly, a pout tugging at his plush lips. was that lipstick? the ice hero glanced behind him, then above him before unfreezing the villain. “go.” he mumbled, gesturing to the back of the alley. midoriya blinked in surprise, furrowing his eyebrows. “why are you letting me go?” todoroki only glanced towards the hero killer, then back to the greenie. “i’m supposed to apprehend you but at this moment in time, the hero killer is a bigger priority. you’d just slip away the first moment you get, after all you did avoid us for so long. that and… i have a feeling i’ll be seeing you again soon.”

+ with that, he watches as the green themed villain disappeared from his sight. He could only sigh. time to take care of the hero killer.

+ izuku meets shigaraki again, deciding to join the league of villains now that he had nowhere to go and shigaraki is eager to accept him.

+ upon tomura’s request, all for one welcomes izuku by giving him a quirk - flower garden. he had chosen it due to izuku’s given villain name by the media, and izuku found it rather fitting. izuku can create any type of flower - medicine, fire, ice, poison, anything he felt like, from the palm of his hand or anywhere on his body. when trained, he can also create vines due to it being tampered with by all for one.

act two!

+ people tease todoroki for the lipstick on the corner of his mouth, asking about his new girlfriend. todoroki blushes so hard his left side lights up a little. he didn’t want to be laughed at.

+ todoroki and iida are praised for taking down the hero killer, endeavour boasting about his son being a true successor but could have done it faster if he had used his fire. iida has some doubts, actually having seen todoroki release the green villain. their interactions seemed… odd for a hero and a villain. it bothered him. todoroki makes the report, speaking to the press. he tells the press that they have made no progress on finding morihana - which iida knows is a lie.

+ todoroki takes a beating from his father, for going against his wishes. todoroki ends up wandering the streets, his throat blooming with purple from his father’s grip, his stomach sore and breathing ragged. at least he could say it was from his fight with the hero killer, imagine what the media would say if he told them the truth. he ends up in a bar, ordering a drink from a shady looking guy. quite literally.

+ he doesn’t look up when someone sits beside him, a soft voice speaking to him. “it’s a little rude to ignore your date, y’know?” the familiar voice has him snapping his head up from his hood to come face to face with the villain he had let go, nearly three days before. “date?” his voice croaks, startled and a little confused. midoriya nods, sipping from his own bright pink drink. was that glitter? the smaller closed his eyes, glittery purple eyeshadow on his eyelids. damn it, he’s so pretty. morihana licked his lips, leaning into the hero’s personal space. “you’re in the big leagues, little hero. and you didn’t notice you walked straight into the fox’s den? that’s okay. come with me.” for some reason, todoroki followed the villain out the back, only to be pushed into an isolated room. the door shut behind him, his own self being slammed against it. lips met his. they do things, midoriya covering his skin in lipstick, and love bites over every bruise inflicted by his father. he finds peace in the calming green of the villain. maybe villains weren’t so bad? what if it wasn’t so black and white?

+ todoroki wakes up the next morning in the bed of the villain he was supposed to be hunting but he found himself okay with it. glancing at the mop of green, the smaller leaning against the hero’s chest as he hugged onto his waist, his leg thrown over the icy man’s hips. cute. he had no idea how he ended up in this situation, only meeting the boy three days before. was this even normal? of course it fucking wasn’t, his first time having sex was with not only a villain, but someone he didn’t even know! he sat up, running a hand through his hair. the villain next to him stirred, he turned to meet emerald green eyes staring softly up at him - a soft smile tugging at his soft lips. fuck it. todoroki caged the smaller with his body, the soft giggles music to his ears as he had his way with the smaller, first thing in the morning.

+ once he returned back to his office, his mood was obviously different. it freaked the rest of the heroes out. he didn’t even flinch when bakugo yelled in his ear. he smirked at people’s jokes, adding his own dry, witty humour. he even winked as the girls at reception giggled flirtatiously. midoriya was definitely rubbing off on him.

+ he checked his emails, and then his phone, only to find a text from a new contact. ‘i took the liberty of adding myself to your phone, mister hero. come see me any time, you put all the others to shame ;)’ - midoriya. ah, so that was his name. he’s spent the night with him and didn’t even bother to learn his name. it was then that he realised he had slept with a villain on the wanted list. but he couldn’t bring himself to be mad - if his dad ever found out, it’d be a big fuck you to him.

+ todoroki only rolled his eyes when kaminari, sero and mina saw the purples and reds on his throat, trailing down to his collar bones. he only shrugged when they asked to see the rest, unzipping the top half of his hero jumpsuit. it was odd to interact with people - was midoriya really rubbing off on him after one night? he barely knew him yet couldn’t get him out of his mind. he didn’t even realise his back was covered in scratches, or the fact that his father’s bruises had blossomed into beautiful flowers against his skin thanks to midoriya. so that’s what he was doing. morihana definitely suited him.

+ he goes on patrol, fights some villains - part of the team being the one and only izuku midoriya. they only smile at each other, something that catches iida’s attention is todoroki’s smile. they engage in combat, dancing around each other. todoroki gets angry when midoriya requests him to use his fire, lashing out of their little dance with the intent of really hurting the villain, only to have the villain yell at him. “It’s your power! Not his!” and with that, todoroki lit the whole street ablaze with his dazzling fire. all the heroes and villains look at him in shock. it was almost as if he was reborn, emerging from the ashes as a phoenix. the way his fire danced, casting a warm hue over izuku’s pretty features had his heart skipping a beat. izuku’s smile was different from his usual, crazed, manic one. it was warm, and everyone saw it. todoroki guided his fire like a second nature towards the villain, the other dancing around it towards the hero. he slashed the hero across the chest, making sure to only graze him, as he did, blindice made sure the angle was hidden enough as he leaned into ghost a peck to the villain’s lips. they bounced away from each other the whole thing being recorded now, on live t.v. but iida had seen what no one else did. he’d noticed how they were familiar with each other’s movements. he’d seen the kiss. and all he felt was betrayal.

+ iida steps in and apprehends midoriya, to which izuku’s warm eyes turn to todoroki, fear covering his usual expression - it shatters todoroki’s heart but there was nothing he could do.. was there? he steps in to try to take custody, iida refusing as he tightens his grip on the villain, the smaller letting out a blood curdling cry.

+ izuku is imprisoned for questioning.

act three!

+ izuku is questioned, he refuses to answer. todoroki and iida have to watch as the small villain is tortured for answers on the league of villains. this has todoroki questioning everything. it wasn’t right to torture anyone it was.. villainous.

+ his identity is kept hidden from the rest of the world so far, until they had answers. izuku decides he’ll only talk if todoroki is the one talking to him. suspicious, they throw izuku into a cell with quirk proof glass.

+ he faces the icy hero with a smile, reaching a bloodied hand to press against the glass. todoroki notices his nails had been torn off, making the hero wince. he listens to izuku’s story, his expression dropping.

+ midoriya shakes his head, tears rolling down his cheeks as todoroki’s hand presses against the glass, opposite izuku’s. the door bursts open, iida pulling the icy hero away

+ iida scolds todoroki. “i don’t know what’s going on with you todoroki, but you need to focus on your job. you are a hero. you need to stop fraternizing with a villain. a murderer! it is your responsibility to ensure the safety of the innocent! protect victims!” this has todoroki’s expression darkening, nodding as he steps away.

+ todoroki has made his decision. he turns back around, his hand covered with ice as he moves, his hand encasing tenya iida’s face. all he can see is the horror on his expression as he freezes his partner’s body. “If they don’t thaw you out in time, there will be serious brain damage.” he uttered nonchalant. he had always been treated as a villain. an obstacle. a tool. his ice had been melted by a damaged soul who had no one to turn to. he was just like todoroki only he saved himself. he didn’t pity his existence but decided to fight for something when he was abandoned. they didn’t even bother to look for him. todoroki melted through the cell, using his ice to shatter the wall. he pulled midoriya from the cell, throwing him over his shoulder.

+ he could see the horror in his father’s expression as they confronted him. a dark smirk tugged at the usual blank expression on his own face. he stomped a foot down, freezing everything in his path.

+ he escapes with midoriya, taking him back to the bar he had stumbled upon previously. he meets an unexpected face. touya todoroki - or currently dabi. this was the right choice after all.

+ as midoriya is recovering, being taken care of by everyone at the LOV, todoroki tells him about his father and they decide to make it their mission to take down endeavour and all might, even if it kills them. real heroes needed to step up instead of a corrupt system.

+ romance stuff: todoroki and midoriya slow dance in the bar and it feels like a real family. they all drink together, izuku never leaving his side, giggling as touya told him stories of younger todoroki, before his father had taken ahold of him. they got to know each other better, and something started to blossom between them - though they knew that the day their eyes met for the first time. izuku admits to missing his mother and his father figure, stain, and wished they had both gotten proper funerals.

+ todoroki moves into midoriya’s apartment (despite them all having rooms at the bar, izuku still wanted his own space away from toga). izuku and him have dinner together, and they both learn that villain and hero is just a dumb label and they talk about the future. midoriya realises he’s fallen in love as the man tells him that he will go wherever midoriya does.

+ midoriya cries; he hadn’t been left behind again. his mother was murdered by a hero, his father figured murdered by the police’s torture, his childhood bestfriend turned him away and bullied him for the sake of popularity - izuku had been quirkless after all. todoroki admits to being alone all his life, but felt of a higher purpose, necessary now that he had izuku.

+ soft confessions!! bathing together due to izuku’s still healing injuries, soft kisses, hand holding, play fighting. gentle gentle gentle babies!! <3

+ training together, lots of flirting.

+ media in frenzy about how the great blindice had become a villain, everyone in fear. LOV makes an announcement, blindice was no more. making his debut as a villain on live tv (yknow what izuku’s like, dramatic and theatrical) they just had to hack into the network and broadcast something themselves! todoroki had decided to use his real name, ‘shouto’, as a big fuck you to his father.

+ in the broadcast, it was clear as day how much shouto had changed. dressed in a crimson button up, black vest hugging his chest, sat on what looked like a throat. a dark glint in his eyes as he smirked, another male in green draped over the back of the throne - wearing lipstick?!

+ after the broadcast, merch and other things to do with shouto and morihana started to be released. it appeared people liked the idea of a hero turning into a villain. the publicity brought others to join LOV.

FINAL ACT!

+ tododeku and big brother touya break rei todoroki from the hospital, forging documents for the woman to be taken into fuyumi’s custody. natuso and fuyumi are shocked to see the eldest and youngest todoroki siblings working together as villains yet their actions seemed.. heroic? their family tells them they will support them no matter what and were glad to see their oldest brother alive and well, and their youngest finally flourishing and having expression and seeming.. alive.

+ hitoshi shinsou meets up with them and joins the LOV. with his quirk, they hatch a plan to capture endeavour, record him as they use shinsou’s quirk to make him confess to all of his villainous acts and let the law deal with him.

+ fight! fight! fight!

+ iida confronts them and calls them traitors to all that is good. bakugo recognises izuku, yelling how he should be dead. they all end up fighting. kacchan is paralysed by one of izuku’s flowers - he questions on how he has a quirk. izuku gets pissed off, using his vines to lock around them all - using the thorns on them to poison all of the heroes.

+ todoroki is gay *omg das my boo look at him go the fuq what a pretty little flower ugh i love one broccoli look at his lipstick so yummy wow look at those ABS!* < todoroki’s head.

+ the endeavour plan happens, they win yippy doo, endeavour is arrested

+ izuku confronts all might, tells him about the days after school and then how when he arrived home, the hero was responsible for murdering his mother. all might has a breakdown and his true form is outed, he runs away.

+ “you said i couldn’t be a hero. you never said anything about me not being a villain.”

+ todoroki get’s protective when bakugo runs his mouth at midoriya.

+ LOV takes over the city

+ villains win in this au wahoo!

+ izuku and shouto have dinner with the rest of the todoroki

the end

or something?

[tbehartoo]

O, Christmas Tree

For @sillyxkittyy for your ML Secret Santa gift

Summary: Adrien gets to thinking about Christmas past during his present Christmas. He ends up getting his lovely wife, Marinette, to help him with some very special Christmas presents.

Rating: G- This is appropriate for all audiences

“Adrien,” Marinette sighed while shaking her head, “We do not need a four meter tall Christmas tree!” At the dumbfounded look on his face she face palmed before explaining, “Our ceilings are barely three meters tall, my love!”

“But Mari,” Adrien whined, gesturing at the gorgeous fir tree that stood tall next to his equally stunning wife, “It’s like, the perfect tree! It doesn’t have a bad angle anywhere.”

Marinette put her hand on his arm, “Kitty, we don’t have to fill up the huge front hall of that empty mansion with a Christmas tree. We have one small apartment and that tree over there will look absolutely gorgeous in the corner by the window when we’re done decorating it.”

She pointed to a shorter, but still lovely tree a few rows over.

Adrien eyed the tree for a few moments then sighed in defeat. “Why do you have to be so reasonable, Bugaboo?”

She grabbed his arm as they started walking toward the indicated conifer.

“I’m only being reasonable about the height of the tree, my dear. Wait till you see me in full tree trimming mode.”

Adrien smiled down at her. As Ladybug, she could easily throw Adrien halfway across Paris, barely lifting a finger in the process. As Marinette however, the petite girl was having to struggle to pull his impressive mass across the tree lot. She looked so adorable all wrapped up in her fluffy handmade coat and fuzzy pink hat with her breath coming out in huge puffs. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of the petite girl dragging him across the tree lot.  

“That’ll be a sight for sure,” he said lazily daydreaming about how cozy they’d be later on, snuggled up in the apartment next to the fire and a tree overflowing with ornaments.

His smile faltered and Marinette was quick to notice it.

“What’s going on Adrien?” she asked quietly. When he seemed reluctant to speak she ran her hand down his arm and captured his hand in both of hers. She added, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, or we could talk about it later if you need some time to process, but I hope you know I’m willing to listen.”

Adrien nodded. “It’s just,” he looked all around the tree lot, “my mother used to love to decorate Christmas trees. It was something that we did together each Christmas time. She had a theme for each tree, but she’d let me choose the colors of the lights and ribbons.”

Marinette stopped short causing Adrien to jerk to a halt.

“What do you mean by ‘each tree’?” she asked.

“Well there was the tree in the main hall,” he started to count off on one hand, “but father always insisted on designing that tree every year since it would be seen by guests and clients, so we didn’t do that one. Then there was the one in the dining room, it always had silver accents to match the silverware, and the one in the den, it had stuffed animals. It was mom’s little pun about being in a den. And there was the library tree which had tons of miniature fairy tale and storybooks on it, but that one was fake because mother felt it would be rude to bring a dead tree in, plant it in front of all the books, decorate it, and then toss it when-”

He was interrupted by Marinette’s laughter. As soon as she was able to she asked, “Are you telling me you had trees in every room of the house?”

“Well not every room,” he was quick to defend himself. “No Christmas trees in the bathrooms or the kitch-” he stopped as he remembered something. “No there was one in the kitchen, but it was made out of cooking utensils and pots so they could be washed and kept clean.”

He looked over at Marinette and she was instantly suspicious.

“What?”

He didn’t say a word, but started to grin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Kitty, I’m in.”

Adrien swooped down to pick her up and whirl her around.

“That’s one of the things I love about you, Bugaboo,” he nuzzled her neck, “No matter how hairbrained or crazy my plans seem to be you’ll jump in right next to me.”

She kissed the tip of his nose then squirmed to be let down as she said, “We’re partners, not just friends, and someone’s got to be there to save your tail when your plan goes kablooie.”

Adrien chuckled and leaned forward. To any outsider it looked like he was kissing the short woman, but he was taking a moment to whisper his idea quietly so that the two cuddling kwami in Marinette’s purse wouldn’t be able to over hear.

As he pulled back he couldn’t help but kiss the center of Marinette’s forehead just under the pink beanie she wore.

“What do you say, My Lady?”

“I say, Yes! And I say we get this tree back to our place as soon as possible so the real decorating can begin!”

The next evening as Chat Noir patrolled, Marinette called Tikki over to look at her laptop.

“What’s up, Marinette?” Tikki asked as she settled down on her chosen’s shoulder.

“I wanted to talk to you about Adrien’s idea from yesterday,” Marinette said.

“The one he didn’t say out loud?” the little godling said, a hint of sass coloring her words.

“Yes, it’s a surprise, and I thought maybe you’d like to help with it?”

“Oh, yes!” Tikki clapped in her excitement. “I love surprises.”

“Okay, so Adrien thought that we could make a Christmas tree for Plagg,” Marinette said as she pulled up the Pinterest board she’d made last night as the others slept.

“Make a Christmas tree?” Tikki asked wondering why they needed to make one when there were plenty of trees both living and artificial to be had close to hand.

Marinette grinned, “Yup, from cheese”

“Don’t cheeses take months to make?” Tikki asked.

“Yeah they do,” Marinette said nodding but she started pointing to the various cheese boards that had their contents laid out in the shape of a pine tree, “But we’re going to make Plagg a Christmas tree out of cheese like this.”

“Oooooh,” Tikki squeaked. “He’ll love that!”

They spent a few minutes looking at the various cheese boards getting ideas for cheese choices and ways to display the slices and crumbles. That all changed when Tikki started asking how big the whole cheese would be rather than just a wedge. Marinette Googled how big a wheel of cheese would normally be. They found out the biggest cheese was a wheel of gouda, there wasn't info on the smallest cheese though. Then Marinette remembered that Parmesan cheese used to come in huge columns and tried to find a picture for Tikki. They both looked at the wheels dwarfing their makers and turned to each other the idea coming together almost audibly.

“3D tree?” Tikki asked.

Marinette nodded.

“The base is like that huge wheel of Gouda we saw before with a column of Parmesan in the middle?”

Another nod.

“Moving up with smaller rings of different cheeses?”

Marinette’s smile grew wider. “I think we can even have several layers that are different sizes of Camembert.”

Tikki’s smile matched Marinette’s in intensity.

“And we can top it off with a pyramid of Valançay,” Marinette proclaimed.

“We could use red and green grapes for lights,” Tikki said as she looked at the other items on the cheese boards.

“Maybe we could cut up some star fruit to make star ornaments?” Marinette said still a little distracted as she wrote their idea down. She looked back up at Tikki, “Do you think we ought to do some honeyed pecans?”

Tikki shook her head. “Plagg doesn’t really like sweet as much as I do. The fruit is more for decoration than for him to eat.” She thought for a moment. “I bet if you did something like super spicy pecans, he’d love that.”

“Oh that’s such a good idea Tik,” Marinette said as she noted it on the drawing. She had another thought. “What if we used some food coloring to dye these little mozzarella balls to look like the ornaments we hung this afternoon?”

Tikki giggled. “That would be so fun, and you could use the colored sea salt to make the glitter on them.” A frown crossed her face. “But when and where will we be assembling this tree?”

Marinette frowned then picked up her phone. A few texts later and she was smiling back at Tikki.

“It’s all taken care of,” she told her kwami. “Chloe talked with Alya’s mom and she’s clearing off a shelf in the hotel’s walk-in refrigerator for us to store everything. And Alya, Trixx, Chloe, and Pollen are in for helping with decorating the ornaments and stringing the lights. We’ll have it all ready by Christmas Eve.”

Tikki hugged Marinette’s cheek. “He’s going to love it! I can hardly wait to see his face.”

******

“You have some flour on your face,” Marinette said as she greeted Adrien at the door a few days later. She reached up and used her thumb to wipe the white powder from his cheek.

Adrien’s blush made her laugh, even as he caught her hand in order to kiss her palm.

“Nino and I stopped by the bakery today for our Baking with the Boys weekly session with Papa Tom,” he told her as he started to take off his coat and scarf. “Papa sort of started helping me with something and then Mama got involved and now it’s a little more complicated than I thought it would be.”

Marinette laughed again but stopped short when Adrien held up the big bag with the very familiar ‘T and S’ on it.

“Be nice,” Adrien said, “or I won’t let you taste the rejects.”

Marinette snatched the bag away from him and looked inside. The gasp she gave once she viewed the contents was enough for her kwami. Instantly Tikki dove into the bag and came up holding four different kinds of cookies. The fifth cookie, disappearing rapidly in her mouth, made it hard to understand the kwami’s words, but it sounded like something that could best be translated as, “Sooooo yummy!”

“Adrien, there must be ten different kinds of cookies in here,” Marinette said even as she reached for a sable.

“We made fifteen kinds,” Adrien said as he reached in and came up with an orange and ricotta cookie, “but Nino got to take all the peanut butter based cookies home to Alya.”

“How did you even have time to make all of these?” she asked in awe.

“We used all the ovens!” Plagg said with something of a smirk as he bit into a dark chocolate cookie. “The one in the house kitchen and all the bakery ovens, too.”

Marinette sat down in shock. “My parents shut down all their other baking, at the busiest time of the year, for a project you wanted to do?”

Adrien’s urgent throat clearing and gesturing toward Tikki with his eyes made realization dawn for Marinette.

She stood back up, clutching the bag of cookies, and flounced toward the kitchen. “Well I guess we know who their favorite child is, now don’t we?”

Adrien hurriedly reached out to grab Marinette before she could get away. He gently pried the bag from her hands and set it on a nearby end table and wrapped her in a hug.

“Yes,” he said as he nuzzled her nose, “We know that you are their favorite child.” He kissed her cheek. “And they will do anything that helps you to be happy.” He kissed down her jaw. “Even if that means helping your ridiculous husband out of a sticky situation.”

Plagg’s voice could be heard from the direction of the bag, “He means that literally. You should have seen him trying to pipe the ganache on the macarons.” Plagg emerged with a green matcha cookie. “Chocolate everywhere!”

They all laughed then grabbed one more cookie so they’d still want to have dinner.

******

Christmas Eve arrived and both Adrien and Marinette were in a flurry of activity getting decorations and other final preparations for the special evening they had planned. As they dressed for the party Marinette’s phone continued to ring with updates from their guests.

“Alya said that she’s helping her mother bring ... something over from the hotel,” she read off as she latched the necklace Adrien had given her last Christmas around the nape of her neck. “And Nino says that he and Papa are having trouble finding a safe way to get your little project through the door!”

Adrien’s laugh rang out as he slipped his foot into his shoe. “It’ll be a miracle if they can get it here in one, maybe two, pieces.”

A knock on the front door had Adrien hurrying to answer and he greeted their first guest with a warm smile and a hearty hug.

“Chloe! You made it,” he said as they exchanged cheek kisses. “And early, too.” He gave Pollen a quick fist bump.

“Of course I made it,” she said with a scoff. “Marinette asked me to be your greeter while Chat Noir and Ladybug put in a special appearance at Nadja Chamack’s Christmas Eve Spectacular.” She straightened his tie as she added, “I couldn’t very well be late if I’m supposed to let people in could I?”

“No, I guess you couldn’t,” Adrien said as he stepped back and did a turn for her final review.

“You’ll do,” Chloe said with a small grin. “Marinette, better hurry up if you don’t want to be late.”

Marinette hurried into the room with Tikki close behind her.

“We’re here,” Marinette said as she greeted Chloe. “Just checking that everything will be ready when we get back. Now remember you two,” Marinette was addressing her and Adrien's kwami, “we’re going to be detransforming in that little room off the lobby downstairs before we get to the party. You’re not to show yourselves before the surprise is ready,” she was looking at Plagg and added, “even if you smell some really good cheese from the h'orderves or Papas Christmas cookies!” she added as she tickled her kwami's side.

Plagg tried to look contrite, but no one was buying his act. Tikki merely brightened up at the mention of Tom's cookies.

“I don’t want either of you to be seen until I’ve had a chance to look everything over and make sure it’s perfect and fix anything that might be in need of some… er, embellishment opportunities.”

Tikki giggled. “I’m sure everything will be in its proper place when we get back,” she said with a small wink at Chloe’s sly smile.

“Yeah,” Plagg drawled, “but if anything goes wrong,” he shrugged, “that’s just how the cookie crum-bles!”

Plagg cackled in glee when Adrien’s face paled. He stopped abruptly when snatched from the air.

“We will talk about vague threats for bad luck amid highly stressful situations later,” Adrien hissed at him. Before Plagg could say anything else to ruin the moment, he called for his transformation.

“That should keep the little imp quiet for awhile,” Adrien said as he stretched into his suit.

Marinette laughed then turned to her kwami. “Are you ready Tikki?”

Tikki gave Pollen a quick hug then came to hover in front of Marinette. “Say the words Marinette!”

“Tikki, spots on!”

In a flash of pink light, Ladybug stood where Marinette had once been.

“We'll be back in a couple of hours,” Ladybug said as she swung out the open patio doors.

“Bee good, honey pies,” Chat said and bounded after his lady.

Chloe rolled her eyes while Pollen giggled.

“He says that every time, Pollen. I'd have thought you'd be tired of it by now.”

The happy kwami shook her head.

“I never get tired of his puns,” she said. “He's a good member of your hive.”

Chloe smiled up at her, “As if I'd have anything less than the best?”

The blonde woman looked around, “Now help me clear some space for Plagg's ridiculous monstrosity of a cheese tree.”

******

Two hours later found Marinette and Adrien racing up the steps from the lobby of their apartment building to their front door. Before they went in, Tikki and Plagg were ushered into Marinette's clutch. When Plagg objected Tikki merely grabbed hold of the grumpy kwami and dragged him into the purse while chiding him for being surly during such a festive time.

The happy couple entered to be greeted by quite the sight. There, on the kitchen table, were two trees assembled that left no room for anything else.

Plagg’s tree was a fairly subdued tree made up of a palette that ran from winter white to creamy yellow. It was decorated with garlands of green, red, and dark purple grapes twining around the tree. There were miniature globes of mozzarella hand painted in green, blue, and purple with crystal lines of salt patterning them. Small discs of cheese covered in red wax were also used as ornaments. Instead of lights there were small “candles” made up of white, cylindrical string cheese sticks topped with spicy flames of cajun pecans. At the very tip of the tree sat a topper made of slices of star fruit. Beneath the tree sat blocks of cheese with bows and ribbons made of melted cheese. All manner of cheeses that had been too fragile to be stacked made up the rest of Plagg’s presents.

Tikki’s tree was only slightly the worse for wear. Marinette could see where some last minute repairs had been done, but that’s because she knew what to look for. Green macaron halves had been stacked in descending order with dark chocolate ganache between the cookie layers. A black licorice string had sugarcookie bulbs of every color attached to it as it wound around the tree. Decorations were made of tiny lace cookie snowflakes, diamonds made of cranberry and orange sables, stained glass sugar cookie stars, ginger snap rounds, candy cane cookies, and even balls of sugar coated wedding cookies. White threads of spun sugar acted like tinsel over the tree that was topped with a marzipan figurine- an angelic Tikki. Around her tree were open boxes of various cookies. Cellophane bags tied with neat bows by Sabine held kolach cookies, madeleines, and rugelach. Around all of this was a Gingerbread train the engine of which Tom had to be the main decorator as Marinette knew her husband’s icing game was still at an apprentice stage. The train had twelve cars each filled with a different type of cookie!

“I think you went back to Papa’s to do more baking,” Marinette murmured to him as she prepared to open her purse and let the stars of the evening’s festivities join them.

Adrien laughed and merely nodded. Everyone was gathered round to see the reactions of the two very special kwami.

Tikki and Plagg immediately flew out of the purse and immediately saw not one surprise, but two!

Tikki gawked for just a moment at the sweet tree before delightedly zipping around it and remarking on all the treats and kinds of cookies. She happily exclaimed that all of her favorite cookies had been included and then hurriedly gave hugs to Adrien, Tom, Sabine, Nino, and Wayzz.

Plagg was dumbstruck and merely looked at his tree from the same place where he’d first spotted it.

“Adrien, is he- is he okay?” Marinette asked very concerned. She’d never known the little kwami to be without a sarcastic remark.

“I don’t know,” Adrien said as his brow furrowed. “I think you may have broken him.”

“Do you think he’s upset because it isn’t all just Camembert?” Alya asked.

“No, I know he likes all kinds of cheese,” Pollen replied. “I’ve even seen him enjoy those American cheese slices in the plastic. So it can’t be that.”

Tikki zipped up next to her partner with a thumbprint cookie from one of the train’s box cars.

“Whaddya think Plagg?” she asked as she started munching on her treat. “Do you like it?”

Plagg slowly turned to the little red kwami.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Tik,” he whispered, unable to find his voice.

A tiny sniff and a quick swipe at his eyes stunned the watchers. Was Plagg crying?

“It was Adrien’s idea,” Marinette hurried to say. “We wanted you both to know how much we love and appreciate you.”

“It turned out to be a little more than I thought it would be,” Adrien admitted with a chuckle.

Chloe chimed in with, “I think we might have gotten a little carried away, but it’s Christmas and you’re supposed to go all out at this time of year.”

“And you’re worth it,” Alya added as Trixx, Pollen, and Wayzz glomped him in a group hug.

Plagg broke out of the hug to fly to his tree. He grabbed an ornament and bit down even as tears rolled down his face. He sniffled and then began to bawl outright as he proceeded to eat the presents under his very special tree.

“I’ve never seen him so happy,” Tikki remarked before flying back to visit her cookie train.

Platters of charcuterie, fruits, nuts, and crackers were produced for the rest of the party guests and soon everyone was enjoying their evening together

******

Marinette and Adrien were snuggled together on the couch after all the guests had gone home. The room was lit only by the fire in the fireplace and the lights from the tree. Tikki and Plagg were sleeping, cuddled together in their snug little pillow nest in the bedroom. Marinette chuckled to herself as she thought of the little kwamis and their happiness when they saw their trees. She looked up at Adrien who was humming a familiar tune.

“What are you thinking, love?” Marinette asked as she cupped his cheek with one hand.

He looked toward the kitchen where the remains of the edible trees could be seen and then up at the tree they had decorated together. He covered the hand at his cheek with his own, then turned his head to be able to kiss her palm.

“I was thinking about my mother and how happy the time I spent decorating trees with her made me feel,” he said as he gently brought their hands to his heart. “And that I was so happy while we decorated our tree here. Even the time, frustrations, and laughs I had with Nino, Papa, and Maman decorating Tikki’s tree made me just as happy as when I trimmed the trees with her.” He grinned down at her. “I think that decorating with people you love, for the people you love is the best part of Christmas.”

“It is,” Marinette agreed as she cuddled closer to her happy husband.

They stayed like that for a moment until she burst out laughing. The name of the Christmas carol Adrien was humming was more than a little appropriate. O, Christmas Tree indeed.

[fragmentedshards]

Eira, Chapter One

-

A/N: these events took place after Thor: The Dark World. Essentially, none of the events from Ragnarok or any movie after that happened. The goal here is to give all of them a happier ending (in my opinion, that’s the goal of all fanfiction).

-

Thor and Jane had been awake for several minutes before Darcy pounded on the door.

“Hey guys?” she called through the door, loudly as usual. “You need to get up and come out here. Thor, your warrior friends are here.”

They had been planning on ignoring Darcy and staying in bed a little bit longer. However, at her last comment, Thor shot up out of bed with an expression of confusion. Jane, still a little drowsy, motioned for him to go ahead and see what was the trouble. She herself fell back on the pillows as he climbed out of bed and headed towards the door.

Thor entered the den of the apartment to find Hogun, Volkstagg, Fandral, and Lady Sif standing with Darcy, Erik, and a very bewildered Ian.

“What brings you here?” Thor asked his friends, somewhat nervous about their reply. Their faces showed everything from rage to grave seriousness.

“Your brother has taken the Allfather’s place on the throne of Asgard,” Fandral announced after several moments. “We need your help.”

Thor stared at them in shock. “Loki?”

“You said your brother was dead!” exclaimed a rather fearful Erik.

“I thought he was dead,” Thor replied, unsure how to feel at the news. “He died in my

arms in Svartalfheim! How can this be?”

Hogun shook his head. “He is the God of Mischief and Lies. Perhaps he is capable of

feigning death?”

Thor ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his head swimming with a thousand different thoughts. “And what is it, exactly, that you want me to do? Sure you can’t be thinking of waging a civil war on Asgard?”

“Certainly not,” Lady Sif quickly confirmed. “Especially not against Loki’s magic. If he is powerful enough to feign death so cleverly, we would not stand a chance.”

“We want you to return to Asgard as our rightful king,” Volkstagg explained. “Thankfully once we discovered Loki’s secret, the guards still remembered him as a traitor and they are currently keeping him in his former prison cell. You can take the throne without a war.”

Jane had, by this time, joined the crowed in the den and gathered what had happened.

“I renounced my claim to the throne, don’t you remember?” Thor reminded them. “I came to Midgard permanently to be with Jane-“

“She can come to Asgard with you,” Lady Sif interrupted. “As can her family here. According to your brother, the Allfather is asleep once more, meaning there is no authority to keep you from bringing mortals to live on Asgard permanently. Futhermore, I expect one of the Vanir or the Light Elves could give your mortals something, some sort of magic, that could solve their mortality.”

Jane raised a skeptical eyebrow at this.

Thor stared at the ground for a moment, then looked up at Jane. “Asgard needs me,” he faltered. “But so do you.”

Jane nodded, pausing to think a moment before declaring, “We will come. I will, at least.” Thor’s face lit up at her words.

“So will we,” Darcy agreed, taking Ian’s hand, an Erik stood up with a nod of confirmation.

Lady Sif straightened up. “Hogun will stay here with you while you gather your belongings - once this matter in Asgard is settled, you can return for the rest - and Fandral, Volkstagg and I will take Thor ahead of you. Be quick.”

Jane, Darcy, Erik and Ian dispersed throughout the apartment, gathering enough belongings as would suffice for a short vacation, but not before Sif, Volkstagg, Fandral and Thor vanished before their eyes in a rush of bright color.

~

Seeing Loki thrown back in his cell tore at Thor’s heart like a thousand claws. This was

his brother, the one who had run with him in the palace halls when they were little boys, the one who had talked their way out of punishment on innumerable occasions... and now here he was, lying sprawled on his back on a cold cell floor, all because of jealousy left unaddressed. Thor’s shoulders physically sagged under the weight of his thoughts.

The guards, who had taken the extra measure of shackling Loki in loose chains to the floor, let Thor enter the cell as soon as he approached. Loki glanced up briefly and twisted his face into an exhausted smirk.

“So, brother, you’ve returned at last,” the fallen prince mumbled wearily. “I knew my reign could only last so long before I was back in your almighty shadow, no matter which form I chose to take. Now it’s back to this royal chamber for me, I suppose? Or perhaps you or one of your infinitely many admirers desires me dead?”

Loki had no sooner uttered this last sentence than he found himself wrapped in Thor’s powerful embrace. Shocked though he was, he maintained his wit as he struggled to breathe. “Death by constricting, is it? Creative, I must say.”

Thor loosened his hold but did not let go. “No one wants you dead, brother, myself least of all,” he exhaled, fighting back tears. “Watching you die on the Bifrost when I could save you was too much, watching you die saving me in Svartalfheim was more than too much. I thought you dead at least twice, why would I kill you or have you killed?”

At this, Loki was silent. Not merely quiet, but silent, as if he had never had a voice at all.

“Mother is dead and Father is asleep again,” Thor continued, “We are the only family the other has. Just stop punishing me for the awful mistakes I made towards you. I never thought of the shadow I cast, I was too dazzled by the sun in which I was basking.”

Loki remained silent and unmoving. Thor broke the embrace and grabbed the prisoner’s shoulders, looking him squarely in the eyes.

“You can say again and again that we are not your family, but what other family have you ever known? The Jotuns from which you descend are no family, merely the beings that produced you. Stop the scheming and the hate and the punishment and come back!” His stiff upper lip was broken, and Thor shed few, but glistening, tears as he implored his brother to forgive him.

Loki studied the Thunder God carefully. One thing he remembered about growing up with Thor: he never, ever shed crocodile tears, which meant that these must be real. Thor grabbed the fallen prince in an embrace once again. Loki blinked once or twice, and his face softened before he hesitantly returned his brother’s embrace.

From outside the cell, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three as well as Erik looked on the scene dumbfounded, while Jane, Darcy, and Ian smiled at the display of reunion before them.

~

“That’s settles it,” Thor affirmed, pacing back and forth across the throne room and

swinging Mjolnir casually from hand to hand. “I’ll take over the throne for now and fix everything in a way that will not make Father suspicious when he awakes; meanwhile, you will reside in Migard indefinitely. I believe the term they use there for what you are doing is ‘finding a life for yourself’.”

Loki nodded, without enthusiasm, at his brother. “You realize,” he interjected, moving to follow his pacing brother. “That, as the God of Mischief and Chaos, it goes directly against my nature not to cause havoc? And that as the God of Lies, it goes yet again directly against my nature not to plot and deceive?”

Thor stopped abruptly and faced Loki. “Do you not remember all the times you used your lies to get us all out of trouble, you and me and Sif and the Warriors? It was not until Father revealed to you that he plucked you from Jotun carnage that you started using your lies this way. And yes, I know I bear the blame for the origin of that.”

“I see your point,” Loki conceded. He turned as if to exit the room but stopped short, pivoting back to face Thor with a small Ah! and holding one index finger in the air. “We seem to have forgotten an important piece of information: the fact that I tried to conquer Midgard. Do you expect them to welcome me?”

At this, Thor motioned Jane into the room - she had been standing silently in the doorway. “There is a town a little ways north of London, called County Keldcaster,” she

explained to Loki. “It’s tiny; not many people know about it who don’t live there themselves. Erik, Darcy and I happen to know someone who lives there now, and the residents don’t connect much with the outside world. They prefer their daily lives not to be tarnished by outside news, and their community is small enough for that mindset to actually work. We think you’ll be safest there, as it is almost certain that nobody there knows about your attack on New York.” She handed him a collection of photographs and and tourist pamphlets depicting County Keldcaster. Before he had time to properly look at the material, she motioned for him to follow Thor and herself out of the throne room and outside to Heimdall, who was preparing to open the Bifrost.

“You may want to use a different name while you are there, too,” Thor suggested.

Loki snorted under his breath. “You don’t say.”

When they reached Heimdall, the gatekeeper of Asgard handed Loki two suitcases, one

for each hand. “Midgardian clothes and some personal items,” he stated curtly, for he - like most Asgardians - distrusted Loki despite Thor’s merciful judgement.

“Good luck, brother,” Thor whispered, bringing his brother into a last bear-like embrace. Loki returned it, furrowing his brow in his efforts to remain partially calloused.

He stepped away from everyone and to the Bifrost, and all in a moment he was surrounded by a flurry of color and shine. Almost just as suddenly he found himself on a small road with forests on either side, next to a street sign that read “Welcome to County Keldcaster.” He looked down at his own body and found himself dressed in Midgardian garb; a black suit, a black shirt, and a black tie. Glancing up beyond the sign, he saw that the road stretched up to a main avenue with shopfronts on either side and colorful houses dotting the hillsides behind. Taking a breath, Loki picked up his suitcases and began walking in that direction.

[shirtlesssammy]

First Blood : Recap

250 episodes. I can't believe we've already reached the quarter episode mark of Supernatural! Who am I kidding, they've got more than 1000 episodes in them, right?

Then:

The British Men of Letters are a menace and the family that hunts together, stays together, er, except for the whole mom leaving, the angel hunting Lucifer alone, and sons getting imprisoned in solitary confinement thing.

Now:

Mary sits quietly at a diner, sipping her coffee, when she gets a call from Castiel. He wonders where she is: Lawrence. Sensing Cas's distress, she asks what's wrong. "I, ah, need you to meet me at the bunker." *Click* Still working on that Chatty Cathy thing, I see. He wanders off screen, presumably to the bunker.

"Six hours ago, Sam and Dean Winchester tried to kill the president of the United States." An unknown government operative (UGO #1) briefs another unknown government operative (UGO #2) about the new guests in their secret, underground bunker. UGO #2 wants the full dossier on the boys. UGO #1: "Assault, murder, multiple accounts of desecrating a corpse." "The same corpse?" As UGO #2 learns the full details of the attempt on the POTUS's life, Sam and Dean are transported to their new shinier bunker, and locked away.

UGO #1 suggests they take care of the Winchesters the easy way, but UGO #2 likes to play with his prey before breaking them. They could connect to something much bigger. I like the calm 1950's Interrogator vibe UGO #2's got going on.

UGO #2 proceeds to talk with Sam and Dean, separately. He questions them about their motive for the attempted assassination. "You're going to talk to me, son." He then lets them know that torture doesn't work. You know what does work? Nothing. 

He's just going to let them sit, and think, and stare at the blank walls of their cells. They'll talk eventually. And no one is coming for them so they've got all the time in the world.

Sidenote: UGO #2 doesn't know about this motherfucker~

Meanwhile, Metatron Mick (and his cartoon beard) sits at a magical typewriter to relay the latest to the Home Office.

He's been trying to make inroads with American hunters, but he's not having much luck "Let me paint you a picture, of a world without monsters or demons, or any of those little buggers that go bump in the night; of a world where no one has to die because of the supernatural." Uh, dude, we like to watch our Winchesters so we'll just keep things as is. Thxkby. Ok, that's not what the hunter dude Mick is talking to is thinking, but he seems super impressed to me.

Actually, what he really says is gold all on its own: "You can take your offer, and you can shove it up your ass. I'm sure it won't be too painful, what with those soft hands of yours."

Back at the bunker, Mary is completely UNIRONICALLY angry at Cas -CAS!- for leaving Sam and Dean. <INSERT A THOUSAND GIFS OF CAS SAYING "I’ll go with you"> It breaks my little Cas-loving heart to watch this scene. Mary's emotional and projecting her own guilt on Cas. (Hmm, who else in that little family projects his issues onto others?) Cas is so demoralized he just takes it because he feels like he did fail the brothers.

Dean finds a loose screw in his cell, and starts the daily scratch on his wall. Man, with walls that soft, all he needs to do is ask for a poster of Raquel Welch and he'd be outta that place in no time! It's feeding time anyway. Dean's a-ok with the grub, but sadly, Sam did not get the kale smoothie he requested at the commissary.

Cas reaches out to Crowley for help, but Fergus is too busy drinking his mai-ti to expend any more energy on Sam and Dean Winchester. "Do you even care that they're gone?" Cas implores. "No." Crowley has full faith that they'll make it out ok; they always do. 

Mary consults John's journal (like, that seems to be the one thing that won't help the Winchesters in this new "humans are the real bad guys" world). Anyway, she hears a phone ring in Dean's room. It's Alicia, Asa Fox's daughter. They need help with a pack of werewolves. She's on the case! Very Dean of her ---if she can't solve the most pressing issue, might as well keep hunting for the sake of distraction.

Dean now has quite a few hash-marks on his wall. And while watching the episode live, Boris literally called it on Sam exercising about two seconds before we saw him start his calisthenic routine. So like Sam. Things are looking pretty grim though for our boys.

With time passing, and no hope of finding Sam and Dean, Mary and Cas meet up at a bar. Mary is sorry for her previous actions, but Cas still takes full blame. Poor bby. They have no leads. And Sam and Dean have been gone "Six weeks, two days, and ten hours." Oh, Cas. Cas then tells Mary about his inability to even solve a case. I know people are confused about how this is "Cas with his mojo back" but I think this speaks to Cas's mental state --and how human he feels. He has zero confidence in himself right now. He's no angel. He doesn't feel at home anywhere. He thinks he's still a hunter-in-training, and he's failing without his support system. And just like the man he fell from heaven for, he's going to take full blame for everything if he can't fix them. Mary suggests they take care of the case together, but Cas declines. "No, I'll only get in your way."

Chow Time. Only NOT! Sam and Dean are both DEAD!!! I love how they supposedly did CPR on Sam but he hadn't been moved. Lol.

In the morgue, the Dead!chesters are laid out. UGO #1 and #2 are arguing it out about what a waste keeping them locked up was, before turning off the lights and leaving.

Cas is alone in the dark bunker. 

Back at the morgue...*SURPRISE* Dean gasps awake! He's ALIVE! Praise Chuck! They're both alive! I was worried there for a mo. Just then the morgue doctor walks in and they ambush him for answers. Where are they? He doesn’t know. They steal his phone, and take off. Making it outside before any CCTV catches them, Dean calls Cas. “This is my voicemail. Make your voice…a mail” No answer!

Dean tries again, and again. Finally:

Cas: What?

Dean: Cas

Cas: Dean!?

Dean: Hey, buddy. Long time.

Us: SQUEEEEEEE

Dean quickly cuts to the chase and tells Cas they’re in Rocky Mountain National Park. Meet them as soon as possible, they’re kind of on the clock. *Click* Sam asks Dean if “he told him.” “Nope.” Hmmm. (Natasha: On a rewatch this hit me hard. They’re on the clock because they’re trying to escape, but also so that one of them can say goodbye forever to Cas before they die. God DAMN it, Winchesters.)

Mary walks away from a den of beheaded vampires when her phone rings. It's Cas! He tells her that he heard from Sam and Dean and she rockets her way to meet him in Colorado.

UGO #1 and 2 walk into the examining room to check out the Winchesters' remains only to find both bodies gone and a tapping sound coming from the body drawers on the wall. It's our bumbling doctor!

“Whoopsie daisy,” he might as well have said. The troops move out to the Benny Hill theme song. “These guys are killers. You got eyes, you pull the trigger,” UGO #1 orders curtly so that we all know the stakes.

Cas meets up with Mary and suggests backup – perhaps Crowley and Rowena? Mary scoffs at turning to the King of Hell and a witch so Cas thinks of someone else...t.b.a. (You know in the old days it woulda been Charlie. *mourns quietly to myself* *Boris joins in*)

Agents Surly and Affable hunt the Winchesters and rib each other. You’re out of shape! You’re mentally unstable! Bromance!

Cut to Dean and Sam – still hunted. Sam guesses that they've got about about an hour until dark, 6 hours to midnight. “Dean,” Sam says. “We've gotta talk about this.” Is “this” feelings? An escape plan? Stay tuned, kids. For now, they leave their big ole bootprints in the mud before wading into a stream. (Bobby would be chewing you out, boys.)

Back on the road with Mary and Cas, our guilt-fueled duo meets with Mick and Mr. Ketch. Mary is understandably NOT OKAY with this plan. “Suddenly the demon and his mommy don't look so bad.” Cas sticks up for his Crowley/Rowena plan and mentions that they helped take care of Lucifer.

Mick is impressed. “THE Lucifer?”

“Did you win?” asks Mr. Ketch. When Cas answers in the affirmative, Ketch lauds their success while he stares at Cas with his horrible, cold shark eyes...

“But, Sam and Dean were taken,” Mary interjects, pulling this recap back on course. They need help. And, huzzah, the BMoL are happy to help.

Mick notes that the American hunters have been a difficult barrier to their main goal in the U.S., which is to “make friends.” Right. Anyway, he goes on to describe hunters as “surly, suspicious, [and they] don't play well with others.”

“Well, that is accurate,” Cas notes.

Mick tells Mary that if word gets out that they helped save THE Sam and Dean Winchester then it'll help their cause with American hunters. Mary reluctantly agrees and tells them that her boys are being held in the Rocky Mountain National Forest – which the BMoL immediately identify as “Site 94”, a shadow-ops facility. They'll run a satellite scan of the area. The pairs depart, ready to find our boys.

Back in the woods UGO #1 and UGO #2, best buddies by now, find the Winchesters’ footprints. They're on the trail! The camera pans back to the Winchesters who are awfully close by. The boys hide behind a tree and tackle one of the soldiers who has trailed off on his own.

Dean picks up the solder's walkie talkie and has a friendly chat with the agents. “What we have here is a failure to communicate,” He says with relish. “’Cause we're not trapped out here with you. You're trapped out here with us.”

Dean and Sam find an old cabin and immediately take stock of what's inside. Sam lights a lantern, which seems like a really terrible idea. Dean grabs a bear trap. Yeah! Let's Home Alone this mother. The boys get to work and soon enough, the agents are upon them. They see the lantern illuminating the room, and someone passes in front of the curtain. Those wily Winchesters must be inside.

Once inside, the cabin appears empty. The soldiers stalk in and around the cabin when the Winchesters begin their attack. Soldiers are non-fatally shot and knocked unconscious and then we're down to two: UGO nos. 1 through 2.  UGO #1, the bigger jerk, gets trapped in Dean's Home Alone bear trap while UGO #2 gets cornered by Sam with a gun at his head. The boys walk away. Really, with that swagger they might as well be wearing sunglasses and walking away from an explosion.

“Who are you?” UGO #2 calls after them.

“We're that guys that saved the world,” says Sam Fucking Winchester.

Cas greets Sam and Dean in the woods. Sam gives him a giant moose hug before flying to hug his mom. Dean gives Cas a solid bro hug before joining the Mary Winchester hug pile. Cas looks on, happy to see his family together again.

Sam and Dean aren’t pleased to find the BMoL hanging out by the cars but there’s no time to hash it out - they’ve got to high tail it out of there. The people they left will call for backup. Mr. Ketch immediately gloms onto this, calling their mercy “a bit unprofessional.” They all exchange meaningful LOOKS of suspicion before getting into the car and taking off.

As they drive back home Mary's car cuts out suddenly. “It's time,” Sam says. Cas throws Dean a goddamnit what did you do look and they all get out of the car. Billie waits for them on the road. She reveals that Dean and Sam made a deal. Billie would kill them and then bring them back to life, thereby helping them escape. On one condition: Billie gets to kill one Winchester for good by midnight. Ding, dong, Cinderella.

In response to Mary and Cas’s looks of horror Dean explains that being locked in that solitary cell was worse than Hell. “You don't have to do this,” Cas grinds out. But Billie tells them that they made a blood pact, strong as the cosmos.

“Who's it gonna be?” Billie asks and Dean and Sam exchange sorrowful looks, ready to engage in a sacrifice-off. They're surprised by Mary, though, who offers herself. Billie magically pins down Sam and Dean and Mary, trembling, takes a gun and points it at her own head. DAMN IT, WINCHESTERS.

Mary tells them she loves them. And then Billie dies, stabbed through the heart with an angel blade.

Fuck yeah, Castiel

(Though I am genuinely sorry about Billie.)

I know the entirety of Tumblr has already done this quote but I'm including it for reasons, okay?

Cas heartbreakingly, emotionally tells them, “This world. This sad, doomed little world. It needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get and I will not let you die. I won’t let any of you die. And I won't let you sacrifice yourselves. You mean too much to me. To everything. Yeah, you made a deal. You made a stupid deal. And I broke it. You're welcome.”

FUCK. YEAH. CASTIEL.

The Winchesters all look at each other. Because. Damn. (Boris: I want a 5 page analysis paralleling Cas killing Billie to Dean killing Death. Please and thank you.)

Cut to Mick typing away merrily on his magic typewriter. We learn that Mr. Ketch has “dealt with” everyone who knew about Sam and Dean's arrest. He's also made inroads with the American hunters. Great! Good job Mick.

Oh wait. He's talking about Mary.

God damn it, Winchesters.

Boris: Man, after this episode, this show needs to rename itself Natural. Barely a supernatural being around. But seriously, I don’t know if it was the hiatus or what, but I loved this episode. It hit all the right notes —enough to hand wave away the questions about Cas’s abilities. That being said, Andrew Dabb loves Cas, and we love him for that. This was such a strong episode for Cas. I think it’s really setting up the rest of the season for a major character development. Yay! We know he’s a Winchester, but it’s going to be so nice to see him realize he’s a Winchester (goddamnit, this better be the endgame.) I also have to give kudos to Mary’s story. Mary continues to have her own story and agency. I'm so trained to having the woman be a plot advancement or helper or foil for the main characters (not necessarily spn, but all tv/movies) that I'm just shocked and mad at her for wanting to find her own way... but I'm cool with her working with the BMoL because this is her path. She’s not just here to bake pie for Dean. They better not fucking kill her. And finally, and most controversially: Destiel doesn’t exist. Lolz.

There are no friendly quotes:

They might be the tip of some nasty-ass iceberg.

Chow time!

Sam and Dean, they're like herpes...just when you think they're gone, hello, the boys are back!

This is my voicemail. Make your voice...a mail.

The last two months we've been sitting around with our junk in our hands because you wanted to wait them out.

Maybe this is some slow your heartbeat kung-fu crap.